Inevitable
by thatTWWgirl
Summary: A series of J/D AUs. No matter how, no matter when, it was bound to happen sometime. Chapter fifteen now up!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! For Christmas, I'm giving you... Exactly what none of you asked for! It's another story. Don't worry, though, this one won't be "unfinished." Each chapter is its own independent fic, much like A Collection.**

 **However, this story is a little different. Each chapter is an AU situation in which our favorite pair (or mine, anyway), Josh and Donna, meets for the first time. If, by the end of the chapter, you're rather invested in that AU, you can leave a review and if there are enough of you that agree, or if I too am rather invested, I'll transfer the chapter and develop the exposition into its own little story.**

 **Should be fun, though! Can't wait to put those two into all kinds of weird and wonderful situations.**

 **I hope you guys enjoy it. Happy Holidays, I love you all!**

 **Rating: Probably T. There's a tad bit of profanity.**

 **Disclaimer: Alas. They're only mine in my dreams.**

 **Reviews: *Intense Snape stare* _Always_.**

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

As he drove, Josh Lyman allowed his mind to wander. It had been a long week, you might say.

First, of course, his boss had won the Illinois primary. And then, moments later, he'd learned of his father's death. He'd spent some time with his mother, helping to put his father's affairs in order and organize the funeral. In truth, he was dying to get back to work. Not because he'd been unaffected by his father's death, but because this was how he grieved. He worked. He did things. He helped people and he threw himself into a cause.

No, it was the resting that killed him. Ironically, it made him restless. He simply couldn't bear to be alone with his grief - or to be alone with himself, quite frankly.

And yet, upon calling Leo and practically begging to come back to work, he'd been given some bullshit side job. Leo tried to make it out as important, that he was going to court a significant donor, but he could tell it was just his way of keeping him out of the office. He didn't feel he was ready.

And so he'd sent him to Wisconsin, the hell hole of all hell holes.

Okay, it wasn't that bad. In the summer, that is. He had been assured that they had perfectly fine cheese. But as for now, in March, at nine o'clock at night with freezing rain coming down in droves, Josh wasn't feeling too much love for the state. He could hardly see the bloody roads, which were hard enough to navigate what with the poorly marked street names and inaccurate map he'd been given at a visitor's center.

God. It'd been a rough week.

 _Ah, fuck, was that a stop sign?_

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

As for her part, Donna Moss wasn't exactly in great spirits either. Which was particularly sad given that it was her birthday.

Of course, her boyfriend had forgotten it. However, that wasn't exactly the root of her foul mood. Rather it was the fact that she wasn't surprised by this at all. She'd grown accustomed to his disregard for her, and this dull blow only served to drive the point home.

She wasn't happy anymore.

Given, she'd felt this way before. Two months ago, she's nearly done it. She'd packed her things and almost up and abandoned him altogether. She'd planned to join the Bartlet for America campaign, which had captured her attention and her sense of idealism. But he'd found her out.

Amid tear-filled declarations of love, of need, and of promises to change, she just couldn't do it. She'd stayed. And of course, all of his promises had come to shit. Nothing had changed.

She went to work that day tired. Her twelve hour shift had only added to her hatred for the world. She'd been yelled at twice, snubbed for a tip once, and hit on three times.

And now, it was raining. Perfect.

She gets in her car and embarks on her drive home, secretly hoping that no one would be there to greet her when she arrived.

 _Crash._

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Upon extricating herself from her likely totaled car, the first thing Donna hears is: "Fuck, fuck, fuck... Oh, Christ, fuck, what have I... _Fuck_..."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, what? Oh, oh my god, are you okay?"

"You're the idiot who blew through a stop sign?"

"You're... You're okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay, you moron. What's the matter with you?"

"I am so sorry, I couldn't see, I just, oh _fuck_..."

Donna examines the man before her, a thirty something in a suit who obviously didn't belong here. He continually runs his hand through his hair, distressed.

"Look, I'm fine, can you just... Calm down?" She says irritably. She would normally feel bad for the guy, but he _had_ just T-boned her car.

"I'm sorry, I'm just... Are you limping?" His eyes widen with concern as Donna approaches him, wincing as weight falls on her left leg.

She grits her teeth. "I'm fine."

"You're not."

"I am."

"I think I should call 911."

"I think that's a bad idea."

"You're hurt."

"I'm really not."

"You're lying."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'll call."

"Don't do it."

"If you're not hurt, come over here and grab my phone from me."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I'm just sayin'-"

"All I want is to go home, okay? So just give me your information, I'll call a tow truck, and we'll be on our way."

"Look, lady-"

" _Lady?_ "

"You're being a bit ridiculous."

" _I'm_ being ridiculous?"

"Yes, hello, operator. There's been a car accident here at... Umm..."

He glances around, and failing to see street signs, looks to Donna for help.

She purses her lips, weighing her options. Looking into his pleading eyes, she relents. "Sycamore and Barden."

"...Sycamore and Barden. Yeah, and a woman is hurt. Not badly, but... Yeah. Thank you. Okay, we'll be here."

In an awkward silence, the man snaps his phone shut and looks around. "So I guess, we'll just, umm, wait."

"I guess we will." She says shortly.

"I... I really am sorry. I didn't see the stop sign."

"So I gathered."

"Right."

"Yeah."

"Umm, we could, sit down?"

"Where?"

"Preferably, inside."

Donna shoots him a look through the pouring rain. "Brilliant idea."

"So, yeah, um..."

"There's a bus stop over there. It's covered."

"Right." He hesitates, reaching out toward her.

She stares at him for a moment, disgruntled. "Fine, fine. I may need a little help."

"Yeah." He smirks slightly, taking her arm and helping her to hobble to the bus stop bench.

Once there, Donna flicks her wet hair out of her face and gives the man seated beside her a look.

"I'm Donna, by the way."

He looks up, surprised. "I'm Josh."

"Josh. Okay. Thank you for helping me." She says, not looking at him.

"Yeah, of course."

"Sorry I was being a bit... Terse. Imaginably, I'm not in a great mood."

He chuckles. "No shit."

"What?"

"What?"

"Did you say something?"

"Nope."

"Okay." She says dubiously. They sit in silence for a moment. "So you're obviously not from around here."

"Was it the rental car that tipped you off?"

"That and the scared, lost expression on your face."

He smiles. "Yeah, no, I don't live here."

"I do."

"I gathered."

She smiles slightly. "What brings you into town? Work?"

"Yeah. I have a meeting with a donor tomorrow morning, if I can find the damn place..."

"A donor?"

"Oh, yeah. A campaign donor. I work for the Bartlet for America campaign."

Her eyes widen. "You _do?_ "

"Yeah." He turns quizzically at her tone. "Why?"

She glances down at her hands, smiling shyly. "Well, I'm kind of a fan."

"You are?"

"Oh my god, yes. I've been following you since October. His speech in Toleto? I read the entire text, and I nearly cried. Okay, I actually cried. Seeing you guys take Illinois was amazing, by the way, congratulations."

Seeing her eyes light up, he can't help but smile. "Thank you."

"He's got what it takes, you guys will sweep this thing. He's got to. We need him."

"Thanks for saying that, but I don't know how much of the country agrees with you."

"Well, you'll have my vote."

He grins, shaking his head slightly. "Wow."

"What?"

"It's just I've never met one of my fans before," he lies. He had. The lemon-Lyman girls could be a bit of a handful. He'd never met one this intelligent, however. Or this attractive, for that matter - not that he'd noticed.

"I'm not _your_ fan, you know. I'm his. I'm sure I've never even heard of you before, Mr..."

"Lyman. But you can call me Josh."

"Right. Josh Lyman. Never heard of you."

"That's a shame. I am pretty important."

"I'm sure that you are." She says placatingly, patting his hand. This only causes him to smile more. She can't help but notice that he's actually pretty cute, when he smiles. Perhaps it was the dimples.

"Thanks for that."

"You bet."

"So... You live around here?"

"Yeah."

"What do you do?"

She looks down again, the sparkle dying from her eyes. She answers quietly. "I'm a waitress."

"Oh. Oh, well, hey, I like... Food."

She sends him a look. "I was in school, you know, studying political science... Among other things, but I had to drop out."

"Why?"

"What makes you think you can ask me that?"

He holds up his hands. "Hey, I was just wondering."

She softens. "No, it's okay. I brought it up. I had to drop out for money reasons."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, you know."

"I know that." She says, bristling again. She wasn't ashamed of what she told him. She was ashamed of what she hadn't - that it had all been for one guy. One awful guy.

"Okay." He swallows uncomfortably, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Hey, you're shivering."

"It happens to be rather cold out."

"I'd give you my coat, but..."

"It's sopping wet?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks anyway."

"Yeah."

"..."

"..."

"I think the ambulance is here."

"Thank god. Let's go."

He helps her up and they make their way to the sight of the crash. "Do you have someone to pick you up from the hospital?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Probably?"

"Probably."

"Hello, ma'am, let me help you up. Sir, are you hurt as well?"

"No, I'm-"

"Yeah, his wrist hurts."

He looks at her in shock. How had she known that?

She smirks at him. "Revenge. I saw you wincing and trying to move it."

"Hop in, sir, we'll take you to the hospital as well."

He glares. "Fine."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Your full name is Donnatella?"

Donna looks up from her clipboard with a start. "Were you spying on me?"

"No. I just happened to look over and notice-"

"These are confidential medical documents, you know."

"-that your name is _Donnatella_."

"Yes, it is. So what?"

"Nothing. It's just kind of funny."

"You think my name is funny?"

"Like, in a cute way." He risks saying. She doesn't seem to mind.

"Whatever. Anyway, I can just look over and see that your name is... Joshua."

"...It's pretty predictable, really."

"Yes, I've since realized that." She snaps.

He smirks, looking back down at his paperwork. "Hey, who am I supposed to put for an emergency contact? Like, someone I see often, or-"

She smacks a hand to her forehead suddenly. "Oh! That reminds me."

"...Of what?"

"I need to call my boyfriend."

Watching her dig through her coat pockets, Josh feels a slight sinking feeling. "Your boyfriend?"

"Yeah. I'll need someone to pick me up from here, ya know."

"Right." Feeling a bit less cheerful than before, he returns to his forms.

"Hey, Roy... Listen, I'm going to need you to pick me up. Where are you right now? It's really loud... Okay, well anyway, I got in a car accident. What? Well, yeah, my car is pretty damaged. We can talk about the costs later, okay? Yeah, we can... I'm in the hospital, Roy. Yes, the hospital... Why yes, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

She's turned away from him to make the call, but he can't help overhearing.

"Yes, so, can you come get me? I can wait about half an hour, I guess, because they haven't seen me yet. Okay. I'll see you then. Bye." She snaps her phone shut, sighing.

"He sounds pleasant."

Donna looks up, surprised. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"I'm sitting next to you."

"He's... It's a long story."

"Is it?"

"Not really."

"So tell it to me."

"What do you care?"

"I dunno. Nothing better to do."

"He was a med student, I was in undergrad, I dropped out to help pay his tuition, we're still together however many months or years later, and..."

"And he's still a jackass?"

"And I'm tired, is what I was going to say."

"So dump him."

"It's not that easy."

"Sure it is."

"He's not a bad guy."

"He asked about the costs of the accident before he asked if you were okay."

"You're a bit full of yourself, you know."

"I do know."

"Good."

"Yeah."

"What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"Do you have a girlfriend... Or a boyfriend?"

He gives her a look. "What do you care?"

"I don't."

He smiles. "No... No, I don't have a girlfriend."

"Sad."

"Not really. The last one was a real piece of work."

"I'd imagine she'd have to be."

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't say anything."

"I think you did."

"I think you're hearing things."

He smiles. "Maybe."

"Ms. Moss? Come on back, we'll take a look at your ankle."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _There was something about her,_ he decided. As no one could see him about his wrist yet, he'd accompanied Donna to a small room in which doctors prodded and eventually set her ankle.

Maybe it was in the way she talked.

He asked her questions to distract her from any pain she might be feeling, and she spoke on all manner of things with equal passion. From her republican family to healthcare to her favorite movie (which required a heated defense, given Josh's noticeable scoff), her knowledge and contemplation of the subject matter was entirely endearing. And refreshing.

It was funny, the way he felt around this small-town Wisconsin woman. It was as though in his bubble of Washington hot-shots and political calculations, he was just now being reintroduced to the real world. To something human. And he was simply enthralled.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _There was something about him,_ she decided. As there was still no sign of Roy, she'd stuck around to sit with Josh as his wrist was wrapped. It was the least she could do, given that he'd stayed to listen to her nervously prattle on as her own injury was taken care of.

Maybe it was in the way he talked.

She listened in awe as he explained to her (and the nurse) every detail of Bartlet's platform, and later, his agenda. It was obvious how deeply he thought about these things; as he spoke, his eyes would drift in and out of focus, his mind working a mile a minute. Each time she raised a question or qualm, he'd talk it through with her as if she was his equal - not an irrelevant waitress. He seemed to genuinely care about her opinion.

It was funny, the way she felt around this Washington hot shot. It was as though he was from another world. He offered a glimpse into all that was out there for her to know and discover - all of the things she had never allowed herself before. And when he met her eyes, she could feel it tugging something deep inside of her.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Babe! You're okay."

"...yes. I am."

Josh watches the man across the lobby. He's tall, stocky, and appears to be a bit tipsy. _God, the asshole was drunk?_ Josh narrows his eyes to see how the scene plays out.

"Come on, I'll.. I'll take you home."

"Roy, are you... Are you okay?"

"What? What, yeah. Yeah. What?"

Donna looks up at her boyfriend in astonishment. "Are you.. Drunk?"

"No, no. No. I just stopped and had a couple beers, I'm not _drunk_."

"You stopped on the way to the hospital for a _beer_?" Even Josh can hear the warning in her tone, but Roy doesn't seem to be getting it.

"Babe, you said you wouldn't be done for a while-"

"That doesn't mean I wasn't alone in a hospital with a sprained ankle! God, Roy-"

Josh is a little annoyed that she'd said she was "alone" but is moreover quite pleased that she is standing up for herself.

"Babe, we can talk about this at home."

"No, we can't."

"What do you mean?"

"And stop calling me babe. You can drive yourself home, though I strongly reccommend calling a cab, and I'll be there tomorrow. To pick up my things."

"Donna, what are you-"

"Go. This is over."

"Donna, you can't be serious."

"I am."

"You can't do this to me."

"Something tells me you'll live."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Go."

"Fine." Roy looks around, aimlessly, his cheeks flushed. "Fine, bitch."

At this, Josh seems unable to stay seated. Donna glances at him briefly.

"Sit down, Josh. It doesn't matter."

Roy turns to look at him as well. "Who's he?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Are you-"

"Go."

At this, Roy finally heeds his orders. Casting one last mutinous glance behind him, he staggers out of the hospital.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"...Are you okay?"

Donna looks up slowly, blinking a couple times. "Yeah... I think I am."

She sits in her chair, slightly shell-shocked. She had just completely altered the course of her life, ending her only long term relationship, with one brash decision. But she thinks that it had been a long time coming. The expanse of directionless freedom before her was entirely overwhelming.

Josh narrows his eyes in concern. "You sure?"

"It's just that... I've got nowhere to go, tonight."

"You can't stay at a friend's place or something?"

"I could, it's just... I don't feel like explaining myself to anyone right now."

He shifts awkwardly on his feet. "Oh... Okay."

He tries hard not to convey how happy he was with the night's developments. He reminds himself that he hardly knows the woman, and he has no reason to be invested in her personal life. But he is.

She stares up at him with her large blue eyes. "I imagine you're staying in a hotel tonight?"

"I am."

"Is it far?"

"I don't think so."

She stands. "Come on. We'll split a cab. We can check in on our cars at the tow lot in the morning."

He looks at her in surprise. "You're coming... To my hotel?"

"Yes."

"Well, okay."

She furrows her brow. "Not to sleep with you, you know. I didn't mean to imply that. I'll be getting my own room."

He smirks, following her to the lobby. "Yeah, Donna. I got it."

"Good." She turns to smile at him over her shoulder. "Though, maybe we could have breakfast together, in the morning."

"Yeah. I'd like that."

And just like that, something had begun.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 **Alright, what'd you guys think? Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey there, wing nuts! I've decided that I'll be using this story to post stories not just of first time meetings, but also of any AUs that diverge from the canon but follow the same original plot line. This chapter is an example of that. It's just a short little thing, but I hope you enjoy :) I've already written a little bit more following this one shot, which I'd be happy to post for any of you who want a follow-up.**

 **Also, watch for another chapter of this story sometime this week! I've written most of it, I've just got one final scene left to bang out.**

 **Hope you're all doing well, and hope those of you who have also been on spring break have enjoyed it :)**

 **Disclaimer: Despite numerous petitions, I have yet to gain the rights to the West Wing.**

 **Reviews: It's your civic duty.**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Donna wakes to an empty bed. She wakes to what feels like a vast expanse of bed beside her, her bare limbs searching vainly for something on the other side. She finds nothing. And for some reason, this surprises her.

She wakes to an empty bed every morning. Why should this one be different? Had she dreamt something, perhaps? She can feel traces of happiness and of fulfillment that are perhaps only the wisps of a pleasant dream; as she attempts to focus on the details, the soft images, they slip nimbly through her fingers.

She lies still, waiting patiently for it to come back to her. It is a calm few minutes that she drifts between contented slumber and alertness. And then, quite suddenly, she remembers. And she is jolted awake.

 _Oh god. Oh god, did that really happen?_ But she knows that it did. The memory is no longer hazy. It is as clear as the daylight filtering in through her curtains.

She'd slept with her boss last night.

But that wasn't really the whole of the story. She'd slept with her best friend last night. She'd slept with someone shed loved, in many ways, for nearly three years. She'd slept with someone she couldn't possibly have slept with last night. She'd slept with Josh.

And, apparently, he had left. The reality of this fact is crushing.

He'd woken up in her bed, seen her sleeping peacefully, and utilized the opportunity to make a quiet escape. Because apparently, he'd gotten all that he wanted from her. He didn't want her come morning.

Or perhaps he was embarrassed. Perhaps he was fond of her, but not as more than a friend. What had happened last night would be dubbed as a rash decision made on a swell of emotions.

What was it she'd said last night?

" _If you were in an accident, I wouldn't stop for red lights._ "

God, how could she have been so stupid? She'd all but confessed her love for him. But then, she really thought she'd felt something. She thought she'd seen something in his eyes, heard something in his voice. In fact, she'd been prone to imagining these things for several months now - but evidently, that's all that it was. Her imagination.

He'd left.

She resigns herself to this fact. God, work would be so awkward. Would they pretend it never happened? Would they not be able to look at each other? Would their closeness dissipate over the course of a weekend, never to return?

She closes her eyes again. This couldn't be happening. How could she have been so stupid?

She sits up in bed slowly, having to will herself to move. Once upright, she stares blankly at the wall in front of her.

She'd slept with Josh last night. And he'd left. He'd left. He'd left the memory of his kiss. He'd left the pressure of his hands on her hips. He'd left the scent of himself in her sheets. He'd left his smile, so intimate, imprinted on her eyelids.

He'd left her.

And there was nothing she could do. So she stares at the wall opposite, wondering if it is ashamed of her, or if perhaps it pities her. She imagines that it does. The wall pities her. Her ceiling fan is mocking her dizziness, and the lamp displays the same darkness she feels.

She should get dressed. She should take a shower, and wash him off of her. But she is wearing his shirt, and she doesn't want to take it off. She'd pulled it on last night, feeling the chill under her sheets. He'd wrapped his arms around her, and she'd felt so much warmer, and...

It was cold in here. And she should take a shower.

Just then, she fears she is hallucinating; a hallucination even worse than the personification of her bedroom. Because the object of her thoughts is rounding her doorway, smiling nervously, a mug in each hand.

"Oh, good, you're up. I made coffee."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, this AU sort of happened to me over the past few weeks. I think I'll attribute it to the fact that I've been rewatching Gilmore girls in preparation for the reboot? Anyhow, I ended up loving this more than I'd originally thought I would. I can definitely see myself expanding this. I'd love to go more in depth with all of it; but until then, think of this as a fun sort of pilot episode for the possible series. Let me know if you want me to continue!**

 **I hope you enjoy! Love you all, as always.**

 **Rating and Disclaimer still apply.**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Jen turns suddenly at the sound of a fierce banging on her door. She checks the kitchen clock. 8:30. She sighs resignedly, knowing exactly who was disturbing her pleasant Saturday morning.

"C'mon, Jen, up and at 'em! I've gotta be at work by ten!" A loud voice calls through the front door of her townhouse.

Grumbling, Jen ambles to the door in her pajamas. She pulls it open with a frown. "Good morning, Josh."

Josh brushes past her into the home. "Yeah, morning. Where is she?"

"She's asleep, Josh."

"What time is it?"

"8:30."

"She should be up by now." He mutters, striding down the hallway. He reaches a door and bangs on it in much the same manner that he knocked on the first. "Alaina! Up!"

"Josh."

He turns around, eyebrows raised. "Yes?"

"She's twelve now, you know. She's coming up on her teenage years, she's going to want to sleep in."

"Pssh. She's no teenager." Josh waves a hand dismissively. "Besides. It's Saturday. There are things to do."

"It's also the day many utilize as an opportunity for relaxation."

"Not if you're related to me, you don't." He gives her a charming smile. "Hey, you got any food?"

Jen rolls her eyes. "Yeah. You haven't eaten?"

"Nah. I knew you'd feed me."

"One day, you'll starve."

"Not today."

"Would you like coffee?"

"You're the best, you know?"

"Yupp."

Still irritable, Jen huffs into the kitchen behind him as he roots around in the cupboards for food. Once he's settled across the counter from her with a bowl of cereal and a mug of coffee, she levels her gaze at him.

"So. You have to be at work by ten."

"Yupp."

"It's Saturday, Josh."

He looks up absently. "So?"

"Again, for most people, that's generally a day of _rest_."

"Ain't no rest for the wicked, Jen."

"You're always in the office, Josh, I don't know how you live-"

"Hey! Kiddo!" Jen's lecture is cut off by the entrance of a disheveled tween, who glares at her parents from behind a mop of brown curls.

"What do you want, Dad?"

"C'mon. Homework. Before I have to leave."

Alaina groans, ambling toward him in her pajamas. "I just got up."

"Fine. Food, then homework."

She slides onto the stool next to him, and he fondly ruffles her hair. "Deal."

"Deal."

They'd had her when he was nineteen.

He'd been the ambitious PoliSci major in a Constitutional Law class, Jen had been the senior law student assisting the professor. She was twenty-four. They'd been friends, he and Jen. Nothing more.

Then, late one night after a rough breakup for Jen, they'd ended up drinking together with a group of friends. A drunken one-night stand. Meaningless rebound sex with a friend. Nothing more.

And then: Alaina.

And despite all of the panic, the poor timing, all of it... She was still the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He and Jen were still good friends. There really wasn't a question of them being anything more than that. Twelve years later, they were closer to brother and sister than a couple.

"Why do you have to leave so soon, anyway? It's Saturday."

"Because, work."

"On a Saturday?"

"The country doesn't take Saturday off, Alaina. So neither do I."

"Feeling rather self-important, there, eh, Dad?"

Josh raises an eyebrow at his only child. "Feeling rather disrespectful this morning, eh, kid?"

"Is it just this morning, or is it all mornings that you kick me out of bed at 8:30? Hmm..."

"Hmph. No parental respect with this one."

"Can I have some of your coffee?"

"You're too young for coffee. It'll stunt your growth." Josh says even as he passes her his mug for a sip.

"I think 4'11" is a reasonable height."

"For a human cannonball, maybe."

"I've always wanted to be a carnie."

Jen hands her daughter a plate of toaster waffles, and all conversation ceases.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Lies, I'm telling you. Lies. The civil war was not about slavery."

"I've seen some pretty compelling arguments that it was, dad."

"I mean, it was, but this oversimplifies everything."

"So?"

"Who created this assignment, anyway?"

"My history teacher."

"Is he perhaps mildly intellectually impaired?"

"It's a she, dad."

"Well, regardless of gender, this teacher is-"

"Can we _please_ get back to the assignment?"

"How can I? It's erroneous."

"Erroneous?"

"It means that it's not-"

"I know what it means, but must you use it in every day conversation?"

"I'll have you know, I scored a-"

"760 verbal SAT, yes, I know, dad."

"Well. Good."

"So anyway, back to 'root causes of the civil war'-"

"Hold on. No no no no. I'm not letting you complete this."

" _Dad_ -"

"I'm writing her a note."

"What? Dad, no-"

"What's this lady's name?"

"Her name is Ms. Moss, dad, but she's honestly a really good teacher, you don't have to-"

"Too late."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Alright, class, just pass your homework up to the front. Thank you very much." Donna walks briskly past the front row of desks, collecting papers from students who'd been chomping at the bit since the moment the bell had rung. "Hold still, hold still. I dismiss you, not the bell."

She waves the stack of assignments back and forth in front of her, slowly. "This sure does feel like a lot less than 28 papers..." She is greeted with blank stares and twitching feet. "Okay, fine. You can go."

The class leaps to their feet and stampedes for the door, forcing the young teacher to yell over their passing heads, "I'm expecting the rest of these tomorrow! With five points off for lateness!"

Turning back to her desk, she notices one of her seventh graders lurking timidly behind it.

"Oh, hello Alaina. Is there something I can do for you?"

The brown eyed girl looks down, scuffing the floor with her shoe. With one hand, she half-heartedly offers a piece of paper.

"So, I did the assignment, Ms. Moss... But there may have been a slight problem."

Donna quirks her head slightly, smiling. Looking at the assignment, she can see that it's covered in blue writing. "A problem?"

"Well, my dad was helping me with it, and he had some problems with, umm... The phrasing of the assignment. So, he, umm, wrote a note on it."

"A note... For me?"

"Yes. I'm really sorry, I would've erased it but he wrote in marker, and-"

Donna chuckles slightly, and steps forward to put a hand on the blushing girl's shoulder. "Hey, nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault. I'll give you full credit, don't worry. And I'll, umm, get back to your dad on whatever this is."

Alaina's eyes widen in panic. "Oh, you don't need to do that, he was just being-"

"Don't worry about it, okay? I'll take care of it."

Alaina, realizing that there is nothing more to be done, gives a weak smile. "Thanks, Ms. Moss."

"Anytime. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Now get to class."

"Yes, ma'am. See you tomorrow."

Donna watches her flustered student leave with veiled amusement. She returns to her desk to sit briefly before the next class comes in, and takes the time to read the note scrawled on Alaina's assignment.

 _Ms. Moss,_

 _I'm writing to inform you that your assignment is misteaching history and is likely contributing to the vast number of misinformed youth entering the workforce these days. You can't just list 'slavery' as a main cause of the civil war! It's far more complicated than that!_

 _As a graduate of Harvard and Yale, and Chief of Staff to senator John Hoynes, I'd say I'm fairly educated as far as political history goes, and can speak with authority on the subject._

 _Regards,_

 _Josh Lyman._

Smirking to herself, Donna jots down a hasty reply before turning to her chatty fourth period.

"Alright, alright. Free time's over, get out your textbooks."

XxXXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Dad? Ms. Moss gave me this on Tuesday. It's for you."

"Oh, that crackpot history teacher of yours?"

"She's not a crackpot, dad."

"What is she, then? Old and dottery?"

"No. She's actually quite young. And pretty. And smart."

"Well that's - that's just not the point. Let me see her reply."

Josh scans the note in under ten seconds before turning back to his daughter incredulously. "The nerve of this woman!"

"Why? What'd she write?"

"Oh, don't pretend you haven't read it."

Alaina can no longer contain her smirk, looking at her indignant father. "Well, she has a point!"

"She does not."

"Does too."

"Give me that pen. I'm writing a reply."

"Oh god."

 _Mr. Lyman,_

 _That's a very impressive résumé. But I don't think that's where I'd heard of you from... Oh, aren't you that guy with the crazy fan club?_

 _Regards,_

 _Donna Moss._

"She thinks she's funny."

"It does rather undermine your authority on the subject."

"Does not."

"Undermines your authority on pretty much any subject, really."

"Ha! This'll show her. Give this to her when you see her."

"I hope you know how ridiculous you're being."

"I do."

"Fine. I'll give it to her."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _Ms. Moss,_

 _That in no way undermines my authority on the subject. Nor does is change the validity of my complaint. I await a defense of your inaccurate perspective._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Josh Lyman._

Donna raises her eyebrows at her student. "He's serious with this?"

"Dead serious."

"Hold on a minute, and I'll give you a reply for him."

"Oh, fantastic."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"No, ma'am."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _Mr. Lyman,_

 _I stand by my perspective that slavery was a primary cause of the civil war. Of course it's more complicated than that - but I teach a class of twelve year olds. So until they're able to comprehend the context of such readings as Crimes Against Kansas, the South Carolina Exposition, John C. Calhoun's final address, and the Virginia and Kentucky resolves, I'll trust that my coverage of the material is sufficient._

 _Best,_

 _Donna Moss._

"I... May have underestimated this woman."

"Oh, really now?"

"You don't need to sound so smug."

"I told ya so."

"Okay, well, sticking your tongue out is just unnecessary."

"I disagree."

"Hey, do you have your sixth grade yearbook around here somewhere?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Did she teach at Grant last year?"

"Yes."

"Get your yearbook."

"Dad, no."

"No, what?"

"I know where this is going. And I forbid it."

"What?"

"Dad-"

"Look, she obviously knows who I am, judging by her first note. So I need to do some reconnaissance. Just to keep a level playing field."

"This isn't a campaign."

"C'mon, Lain."

Alaina glares at her father over the cup of coffee he was obviously using to bribe her. "Fine."

"Really? Great."

She slides off her stool and retrieves a book from the shelf in the living room. "You're crazy."

"And you're crazy by extension. Alright, lemme see."

"Okay, okay... Ah. That's her."

"That's... Oh. Oh. Okay."

"What?"

"What?"

"Your voice got weird."

"What? No it didn't."

"It got all high."

"Did not."

"Whatever, dad."

"I just didn't expect... Never mind."

"Didn't expect what?"

"She's, well, umm... young."

"I told you that."

"Yeah."

"So then why wouldn't you have expected it?"

"What?"

"Dad."

"I'm, uhh, going to write a reply now."

"You do that. Try to avoid telling her you stalked her."

"Good tip."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _Ms. Moss,_

 _Alright. So, you know what you're talking about. I'll give you that. However, that doesn't mean you can misrepresent history just because you think they're too young for it. I for one can guarantee that Alaina, at least, is quite capable of comprehending everything you mentioned._

 _Best,_

 _Josh Lyman._

Donna looks up at the girl before her, still obviously slightly miffed by her father's antics. "He's really something, eh?"

"I apologize on his behalf."

"No need. I find it entertaining." Donna smiles distractedly, pulling a pen and pad of paper toward her to write a reply. "Hey, Alaina?"

"Yeah?"

"Your dad..."

"Yeah?"

"It's just that, and I don't mean to be nosy, but I was just wondering if... Well, I know that at open house a couple weeks ago, your mom was here with someone, and-"

"Oh, yeah. That's Dave."

"Dave?"

"Dave. He's my stepdad."

"Oh. Oh, okay."

Alaina, ever an observant girl, notes the pink tinge to her history teacher's cheeks. She knew what Ms. Moss was asking. It was the same question that had been asked of her, with varying degrees of subtlety, since she was five. Her primary teachers had taken note of the twenty-something with the dimples coming by to pick up his daughter, and of course they'd all wondered one thing.

She liked Ms. Moss a lot more than she'd liked most of them, though. She narrows her eyes at her, considering.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _Mr. Lyman,_

 _I don't doubt that. She's very bright. I'm sure she'd be able to comprehend all of those things, should you be inclined to teach them to her._

 _Best,_

 _Donna Moss._

"She's sucking up, now. To placate me. It's very passive aggressive."

"Passive aggressive? _You're_ calling someone passive aggressive? Alright. Whatever. I thought it was very nice."

"Yes, well, you're naive."

"But bright. Very bright, in fact."

"Ah, be quiet."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _Ms. Moss,_

 _Yes, she takes after me that way. But nonetheless! You cannot transfer these teaching responsibilities to me! I saw right through that clever ploy._

 _Regardless, Alaina speaks very highly of you. So, grudgingly, I'll admit that whatever you're teaching her, you're teaching it well._

 _Yours,_

 _Josh Lyman._

"Hey! This one was kind of nice."

"Yeah. I think you're growing on him."

"That's very gratifying."

"You should be proud."

"Thank you."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _Mr. Lyman,_

 _Flattery will get you nowhere with me. I've moved on from the civil war, and I'm not going back._

 _But, thank you._

 _Best,_

 _Donna Moss_

XxxXxxXxxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _Ms. Moss,_

 _I'm sure flattery could get me a lot of places._

 _But, you're welcome._

 _Best,_

 _Josh Lyman_

Donna clears her throat, attempting to conceal the fact that she has the distinct urge to giggle. "So, Alaina, umm, I wanted to run something by you..."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Joshua! What are you doing here?"

Josh's eyes widen in alarm as his daughter's large, affectionate stepfather goes in for a bearhug upon opening the door.

Wincing as he moves around to ensure that nothing is broken, Josh steps inside. "Just stopped by for a visit."

"That's great! I'm just surprised, because normally you've only got the time during the weekend."

Josh smiles. "Well, I managed to get out of work early, so..."

"Aw, that's great. You always look so tired, bud. So overworked. I'm glad you'll actually have time to sleep tonight, ya know."

"Thanks, Dave."

Jen, who was five years Josh's senior, had married a man five years her senior. The ten year age difference had resulted in an interesting big-brother dynamic between the two.

"Right. I'll get Alaina. ALAINA. You probably could've done that. But then again, you probably don't have the same lung capacity."

"Nobody can shout like you, Dave, you know that."

"Thanks, man."

Josh makes his way into the living room, taking a seat in an armchair. "How's Trevor doing? Haven't seen him in a while."

"Oh, he's great. He's great. His coloring is top notch, his vocabulary is getting bigger every day. He'll be starting Kindergarten next fall, you know."

Josh grins indulgently, thinking about his daughter's half-brother. "That's a great age."

"It sure is. Ya know, you just missed him, too. We just got him down for the night. It's a shame, the little guy would've loved to see you."

"I'll be back on Saturday to say hi."

"Yeah, but you're always gone by the time we get back from our donut run! So busy, it's a shame. But tonight! ALAINA."

"Ow! My head. I'm right here." Alaina jolts as she rounds the corner into the living room. Upon seeing her father, she grins broadly. "Dad! You're here! On a Wednesday!"

"That which I am."

"Why?"

"Hey, can't a guy just want to see his daughter? No ulterior motive?"

"Hm, I dunno." She says skeptically, approaching him for a hug.

"What on earth are you shouting about? Trevor's only just fallen asleep, and - Oh. I should've known." Jen also makes an appearance, smiling in surprise at Josh.

"Well, the gang's all here." Josh says with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" Jen asks with amicable curiosity, patting his shoulder as she passes him to sit with her husband on the couch.

"God, what's with the third degree with you guys?"

Jen gives him a look. "Josh."

"Hey, I was just-"

" _I_ know why he's here." Alaina interrupts with a wide smirk.

Josh turns to her, eyebrows raised. "Do you, now?"

" _You're_ here because you couldn't wait until Saturday to get another flirty note from my history teacher."

"I - what - that's ridiculous-" Josh sputters. But the damage has been done.

Jen and Dave's eyes light up instantly. "You _what_?"

"I - Hey, hold on-"

"You like someone? Aw Josh, I'm so happy for you."

"You've been passing notes back and forth with her _teacher_?"

"It's just that it's been a while since your last relationship, and-"

"Ms. Moss is your history teacher, right? I remember her from the open house, she's cute. She's really cute, Josh. And smart."

Josh narrows his eyes at the mother of his child. "Listen, it's nothing major. Nothing has happened."

Alaina covers a laugh with a cough. "I wouldn't call it nothing. I stopped reading 'em, they were getting so obvious."

At this point, Josh is unsure of who is most deserving of his defensive glare. "Look, I'll have you know it started out with a complaint. I wrote to her complaining about the way she was teaching the civil war."

Jen gives him an incredulous look. "Josh, you _didn't_."

"I did. And, she wrote back, and-"

"She gave me another note for you, you know." Alaina interrupts.

Josh tries and fails to look apathetic about this news. "Really?"

"Yeah, do you want me to get it?"

"What? Oh, no... It's, umm, it's fine..."

"I'll get it."

Josh shifts uncomfortably in the silence that follows her exit. The knowing smirk that Jen is giving him is too much.

Within a few moments, she breaks the silence in a teasing tone. "You _liiiike_ her."

He runs a hand through his hair. "Shut up."

Alaina practically skips back into the room, holding a piece of paper. "Here ya go."

"Yeah, yeah. We're not on speaking terms, me and you."

"Okay."

He reads it quickly, and can't help a smile. He turns to his eager audience grudgingly. "So, she gave me her phone number."

The quiet cheers from Jen and Dave fail to bother him, now.

"What for?" Alaina asks with false ignorance.

"She wants me to come in and teach your class sometime. And she said I could call her to plan it."

Dave claps his hands together. "Aw, she wants to see you!"

"Well, go on." Jen urges. "Call her."

"Wait, what? Now?"

"Yes, now! We have to know what happens!"

"Okay, see, this actually has nothing to do with you."

"Use the kitchen phone."

He obliges with mild annoyance, getting out of his chair. He pauses half way to the kitchen, turning to look at them with round eyes. "Should I wait a couple days? Will I seem too desperate?"

He's shouted down with fervor, and with no excuses left, he's forced to pick up the phone and dial it. "She's got terrible handwriting, you know, for a teacher."

"Be quiet, would you?"

"Oh, umm. Hi. Hello. Yeah, this is Josh. Josh Lyman. Yeah, I'm calling about the umm.. Yeah. Right."

He waves a hand at his overzealous family, all of whom are on edge of their seats.

"Oh, okay. Donna. Yeah." At saying her name out loud, likely the first time, they notice that he can't help a small smile.

He'd never actually heard her voice before, he realizes. It's not quite like he'd imagined it. _Wait... I've imagined it before?_ He shakes his head to clear it.

"Yeah, well, I'd love to. Next Tuesday? Yeah, I think that could work. I mean, I am a busy man. Very important, really. But I'm sure I can make time."

He laughs at something she says, and tries to avoid shushing the laughter of his daughter and her mother.

"Well, yeah. So, is there anything in particular you'd want me to talk about? Oh, okay. Yeah, I can do that. That sounds good. Though I am wondering..." He trails off, as, without making eye contact, he closes the sliding panels across the kitchen counter that form a window from the living room to the kitchen.

"Hey!"

Their only reply is the kitchen door snapping shut, as well.

Deciding that perhaps he deserves the privacy, the three of them assume a quiet waiting position on the couch. They wait, and wait... And they wait.

There's a pause when a sheepish Josh finally exits the kitchen. He looks out cautiously at his audience.

"You _liiiiike_ her."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"I'm late. I am really late, and I am really sorry."

From the chair behind her desk, Donna takes a minute to look up from her book. When she does, it's to find a sopping wet, rather disheveled looking man breathing heavily in her doorway.

She blinks a couple times, processing. "No, umm, that's okay. I'll imagine the rain probably stalled traffic."

"Oh, I walked."

"You... Walked?"

"Yeah." He still stands hesitantly in the doorway of her classroom, probably shivering.

"In the rain?"

"Yeah."

"From the Hill?"

"Yes."

"Did you have an umbrella?"

"No. It's just that, my meeting ran late, and then when I was looking around for an umbrella or something, I checked my watch, and I figured I didn't have time, so..."

Josh trails off, as the woman before him is breaking into a smile. He can't help but grin a little, himself, as she starts to chuckle. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Come sit down, I've still got fifteen minutes of my planning period left."

"Oh. Okay, great." He approaches her desk, and sets his backpack down beside him as he sits across from her. She refrains from vocalizing her surprise that the chief of staff to John Hoynes was carrying a backpack, of all things.

"Who was the meeting with?" She can't help but ask, curiously.

He looks slightly taken aback by the question. "Umm, Miles Greer."

She nods. "So, about the vote next week. On the appropriations bill."

His surprise increases, and he raises one eyebrow at her. "You're not one of those CSPAN junkies, are you?"

She smiles. "You caught me."

"Should've figured."

"What can I say? I teach in DC." She straightens in her chair, preparing to discuss the day's lesson, but he's oblivious. "So, anyway-"

"That's true... Seems Alaina's never had a teacher that doesn't want to tell me how the Senator should vote."

"Do you listen to them much?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On their reasons. And, ya know, on whether they're intelligent."

She balks at this. "You're saying some teachers aren't intelligent?"

He seems almost amused by her offense. "Well, back when she was in kindergarten, the teachers had never exactly been required to take Civics courses, so..."

She leans forward, looking at him sharply. "That doesn't mean that their voices don't matter. They're exactly the type of working people who deserve to be at the forefront of policy making, you know."

"I do know."

She continues as though she hasn't heard him. "And the profession would attract more highly qualified people if you guys over on the hill and in the state legislatures would bother raising the wages, or the degree qualifications, but no. It's hard to go into teaching, these days, you know, what with the- are you laughing at me?"

"What? No, no, of course not." He says, covering his chuckle. "It's just that, I agree with you."

"Excuse me?"

"I agree with you, is all. Now I'm sure that you've got a better understanding for the subject than I do, but trust me. I get how important teachers are. Now, if you wanted to go yell at Greer, then we might be getting somewhere."

She takes a moment to compose herself. "I wasn't... yelling."

"No. Of course not."

Watching him humor her like that, trying to hide an adorably dimpled smile, her heart flutters briefly. She returns the smile, letting go of her irritation. "I do have some thoughts on how the Senator should vote on Wednesday, though, you know."

"And I'll imagine you've got some pretty great reasons."

"I do."

It was fifteen minutes later when the bell rang, jolting them out of their conversation on pork barrel legislation. Donna looks around, flustered. "Oh, damn. There goes our time for planning."

Josh smiles as students begin to trickle into the classroom. He didn't really mind. Spending those fifteen minutes watching a seventh grade teacher try her hand at debating a career politician had been fun, to say the least. She'd really taken him to bat a few times there. "It's okay. I'm pretty good at winging it."

"Perfect."

They both stand, and Josh scans the incoming crowd for his daughter. "Hey! Lain!" he shouts upon her arrival.

She rolls her eyes at his obviousness, but comes to greet him nonetheless. "Hey, Dad."

"How's your day going?"

"Fine. But more importantly, how's _your_ day going?" She says, raising her eyebrows with implication.

He gives her a look. "Go sit down. Class is starting."

From her seat, she gives him a thumbs up.

"So, as I'm sure you all probably don't know, I'm Josh Lyman. I'm Alaina's dad, and I'm also the Chief of Staff to Senator John Hoynes, if any of you know who that is." He looks out across a sea of blank stares, and sighs. He decides to try another tactic. "Okay. Well... God, haven't done this kind of presentation since those career days in elementary school. Think the last one was back when Lain was missing both of her front teeth, had this really terrible bowl cut..."

The class laughs, and his red-faced daughter gives him a half-hearted glare. She'd expected this.

"But enough of embarrassing my daughter. Let's talk about civics."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"For 'winging it,' I'd say that went pretty well."

Josh grins as the last few students exit the class, laughing and waving goodbye. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah. They loved you."

"I have that effect on people."

"Do you?"

"I do."

"Well, how fortunate for you." She gives him a smile as she heads back to her desk from where she'd been watching his lecture in the back of the classroom.

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Donna clears her throat, and checks her watch. What she says next is incredibly half-hearted. "Well, umm, you should probably get back to work."

He glances down at his own watch. "Yeah, probably." He makes no move to leave.

"I'm glad you came."

"Me too."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Maybe you could come back some time. Make it a two-part series."

"Maybe." Josh smiles. When he can think of nothing else to stall with, he takes a couple steps toward her desk. Slowly, he gathers his coat and backpack. He takes his time in plucking up his courage, his inner dialogue a fierce debate. Those blue eyes were really quite striking. He closes his own eyes, briefly, and runs a hand through his hair.

He speaks before he can change his mind. "But umm hey."

She furrows her brow, giving him a confused smile. "Hey."

He laughs nervously. "But, umm, hey, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to get a cup of coffee sometime. Is what I was going to say. You know, if you want to. Maybe." He glances at her furtively, a slight smile betraying his nerves.

She seems to let out a breath of air, and with it, her tension. "God, I thought you'd never ask."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 **Thoughts? :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey all! I want to thank you guys for the wonderful feedback on the last chapter - I'm so glad you liked it! Once I reach my fifth chapter, I'll take a vote on which au you'd like to see me continue :)**

 **Anyhow, this one isn't too out of the box. It's a typical night-of-the-second-inauguration AU. That episode has always stood out to me as a moment for what could have been. It was wonderfully romantic. And if you've watched other shows written by Aaron Sorkin, like the Newsroom, you'd know that that's actually one of his strong suits. For all his facade of hard hitting political shows, he is such a sap and a romantic when it comes to his couples. Which is why I was so disappointed that he left before he could write Josh and Donna - it would have been something to behold. I felt that the writers of the fifth through seven seasons just didn't really do them justice - with the exception of the Gaza episodes.**

 **So here is my painfully romantic take on what could have - and perhaps should have - been. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Reviews: Feedback is always appreciated! I love you all.**

 **Disclaimer: Stupid Sorkin. If he didn't want to stay with the show, why couldn't he have just given it to me? Alas, not mine.**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

There had been a line, she knew now. That careful line that they toed and prodded each day at work, that line between playful banter between coworkers, between friends, and...

And they hadn't really known where the line had been. They'd just kept pushing and venturing and occasionally brushing up against it, but until that night, they'd never really pinned it down.

But that night, they crossed it. She wasn't exactly sure when or how but she guessed that it was in the cab. Suggesting that she sit on his lap was certainly beyond reasonable limits for a boss and assistant, and had even run ashore of dangerous territory for friends, but it felt natural at the time. He had called her amazing, he had thrown snowballs at her window, he had given her his coat. And then he'd suggested that she sit on his lap because, of course. Everything was happening so fast that it seemed only to be the appropriate next step in this whisking away.

But then, in the taxi, things had slowed down. Time, it seemed, had slowed down. His hands were on her hips, which she thinks they didn't really need to be, but there they were. And she had turned slightly so that she could look at him, and she had rested her hand on his, which she thinks she didn't really need to do. But just then, in the slow falling snow, it had felt very much like she needed to. And when he laughed at something she said, his forehead came down to rest briefly on her shoulder. And there were three men in the back of the cab, but she couldn't focus on any of them but the one beneath her.

And she knew then that the line had been crossed. And they could not go back.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

He isn't sure why tonight is different, but tonight is _different_. He has this tug in his heart that he thinks is connected to the tug of her lips as she smiles. And so when he leans over her shoulder and mutters, " _you wanna get out of here?_ " It's not because he has a specific destination in mind, but because he wants her smile for himself. They didn't need any of these people surrounding them. It was just the two of them, tonight, no matter where they were. That much was clear. But it would be nice not to have the distraction.

He needs to know that she feels it to; this need to be alone. They've only been at the ball for forty five minutes, the second of eight balls, which she had seemed so excited about only hours ago. He waits with baited breath for her response.

She turns only slightly to look at him, smiling nervously. "They won't miss us?"

"Of course they will."

"You know what I mean, Josh."

"No, they won't. Besides, they know how to reach me, right?"

She bites her lip. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know."

"Okay."

He grins and grabs her hand, tugging her toward the exit. As they pass the open bar, she reaches up and subtly swipes a bottle of champagne. He raises his eyebrows at her.

"For good measure."

"I like the way you think."

Their great escape is delightfully remniscient of teenagers sneaking out of prom, and upon receiving his coat at the coat check he drapes it over her shoulders once again. They get a cab. She doesn't need to sit on his lap anymore, so she doesn't, but she is incredibly close to him nonetheless. Balancing the bottle of champagne between her knees, she procures a hair tie and pulls her elegantly curled hair from her face.

He squints at her. "Was that in my coat pocket?"

She smiles. "A girl is always prepared, Joshua."

He doesn't remember giving the cab driver his address, but is unsurprised when they pull up outside of his apartment. She does not protest their location and climbs out of the cab, leaving him to massively overtip before following her quickly. He finds her standing still on the sidewalk, face turned upwards and eyes wide, drinking in the darkened sky.

He stops beside her curiously, waiting for her to speak. After a moment, she returns her gaze to him, eyes bright. "Can we stay out here?"

"What?"

"It's so beautiful out here, with the snow, and the stars..."

"It's also freezing out here."

"It's not that bad."

"Says the woman wearing my coat."

She smiles at him. "C'mon, Josh. We'll be out _under_ the stars, _drinking_ the stars." She holds out the champagne bottle temptingly.

He stares at her reproachfully for a moment longer before her gaze begins to thaw him. It had always been that way - her sense of wonder compelled his. He stays not for the stars in the sky but for the ones in her eyes.

"Fine." He says, feigning discontent. They sit together on the steps of his apartment building together, Josh huddled over his knees for warmth.

"So... You gonna open this thing?"

He gives the champagne bottle an appraising glance. "This could end very badly for both of us."

She forces it upon him. "Just don't point it at me."

He struggles for a minute, much to her amusement. Before long, the top shoots off with a loud _pop_ , startling them both. Hurriedly, he raises the bottle to his mouth in an attempt to minimize the amount of liquid that bubbles over onto himself and the ground. Donna laughs before taking it off him and putting it to her own lips, allowing him a moment to wipe his mouth on a sleeve. He smirks at her as she continues to giggle.

"Hey, this stuff's pretty good."

"The DNC doesn't skimp on alcohol, Donnatella."

"Don't I know it."

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, passing the bottle between them. Noticing his chill, Donna scoots closer to Josh in an attempt to share warmth. It was the least she could do. With her body pressed firmly against his, she turns her face upward once more to marvel in the mundane beauty of the tiny pinpricks that were the stars above DC.

"It's amazing, isn't it?"

"What, the stars? You see them every night." He turns his gaze to the sky nonetheless.

"The stars. The city lights. The eight inaugural balls. The fact that _I_ just walked out of an _inaugural_ ball. That's incredible, isn't it? I don't stop to think about it enough, but when I do... I mean, _wow_. Whoever thought I'd be here? Whoever thought the President of the United States would know _my_ name?"

He smiles. She's always had a way of grounding him. "You're right. I don't think about it enough either."

"Remember what you said to Charlie when you were convincing him to take the job? _'It doesn't go away'_? I like that. That's true."

"He told you that?"

"Yeah. It was a pretty big moment for him, after all."

"I guess it was."

She pauses a moment, pursing her lips. "It was a big moment for me too, you know."

"What was?" He asks with confusion.

"When you hired me." She clarifies. "To have convinced you that I was worth something. And then you gave me your pass, and I... Well, here I am. It was one of the biggest gestures of faith that anyone's ever shown me."

He turns to look at her, having to crane his neck slightly at their close distance. "Why are you telling me all this?"

She lowers her gaze from the stars in the sky to the bottle of stars clutched tightly between her cold hands. He notices a blush on her cheeks, despite the cold. "It's just, with what you were saying earlier... About me jeopardizing my career. Changing the President's opinion of me," She smiles nervously, shaking her head. "All of that. I just didn't want you to think I took it for granted. My job. Your confidence in me. Any of it."

He feels a stab of guilt. "Aw, Donna, I wasn't trying to... I don't know. I was just pissed off. At him, mostly. I was pissed, and I was a little jealous, and-"

"You were jealous?" She interrupts.

He doesn't look at her. "Well... Yeah, I guess I was. Jealous that you'd do something like that for him."

"I'd do something like that for you too, you know. In a heartbeat. In fact, I'd falsely claim a quote for Jack, but I'd _perjure_ myself for you, Joshua."

He smiles. "Thanks."

She returns his smile, still playing the phrase _'I was jealous'_ over in her mind. "No problem."

"But like I was saying, I wasn't trying to act like I thought less of you. Like it changed anything. Because I know how much you care. I do, honestly. I know I can be dismissive, sometimes, but it's... It's one of my favorite things about you. That you're humble, and you care about people, and you care about the little things, and..." He trails off, debating how to phrase his next statement without giving himself away. "You know those stories about you that I told Commander Wonderful?"

She nods in affirmation, wanting to hear what comes next so much so that she doesn't even admonition his use of the nickname.

"Well, you thought they made you sound flaky. But, I dunno... They were a little crazy, I'll give you that," he breaks off to smile, "but they all went with the original theme... You were standing outside in the cold for _hours_ trying to swap votes with someone. That's how much you cared. That's what I was going for, because I thought that'd make him like you. Because, you know...that's what makes me like you."

Fearing he's said too much, he doesn't look at her expression. Had he done so, he would've seen her glowing. He presses on to try and get back on topic. "And that's what makes you so good at this, you know. That's why I'm so glad that you work for me, and that's why-"

"Josh."

"Hm?" He finally looks over at her, glad she had interrupted his babbling before it became incomprehensible. He finds her misty gaze almost unreadable.

"I don't want to work for you anymore."

He takes a moment to absorb her words, and when he does, his face falls. "Is this because of the quote thing? Because I don't care, honestly-"

"Josh." She interrupts again softly, commanding his attention. He feels cold fingers under his chin, turning his face toward her.

She leans in close to him, her face millimeters from his. "I don't want to work for you anymore." She repeats in a whisper.

Before he can respond again, she closes the distance between them and kisses him softly.

He is frozen for a moment before coming to life at her touch, one hand coming up to the side of her face as he deepens the kiss. When he breaks away, it's with an uncontrollable grin. He searches her eyes.

"You're sure?"

She smiles and nods. "I am. Are you?"

"Definitely," he can barely get out before leaning in again.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxxXxXxXx**

 **So, how did I do? Did I do them justice? If you really loved this AU, you can vote for it after the first five chapters have been posted and I'll continue with the winner. I've already written a bit more, in fact :)**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Alright, here's chapter five. You know what that means! That's right, it's finally time to vote on which AU you'd like to see me continue. Leave a review at the end of this chapter to cast your vote. And if your pick doesn't win, no worries, I'll have another vote once I reach ten chapters.**

 **Without further ado, here's chapter five. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Reviews: Yes please! Remember to vote!**

 **Rating: T**

 **Disclaimer: We all know they're not mine :(**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"And that's a wrap, people. Tonight's the big night, try not to screw it up."

The senior staffers all mumble something in assent, waving to Leo and filing into the hallway. The speech writers were in a daze - this was their biggest address since the inaugural - CJ was having a cow about the rumors going around about one of their honored guests, and Josh... Well, Josh was actually having a pretty good day. Or at least, par for the course. The deputy chief of staff thrived on chaos, and the day of their first State of the Union address was nothing if not hectic.

"Hey, Josh!" Sam jogs to catch up with him.

"Yeah?" Josh turns over his shoulder.

"I wanted to tell you something."

"What?"

"I'm bringing my girlfriend to the after-party tonight."

Josh rolls his eyes.

"See! This is why I wanted to have a talk with you before you met her."

"What, why? I didn't say anything."

"It's your demeanor, Josh."

"What about my demeanor?" Josh asks nonchalantly as he strides into his office, Sam following doggedly.

"You can be pretty condescending to the women I'm seeing, Josh."

"Well I wonder why that is, Sam."

"You treat them like they're bimbos. Interchangeable."

"Aren't they?"

"That's not fair, Josh. I know you were right about Lisa-"

"And Cindy."

"And Giselle."

"And Mia. And the list goes on and on."

"But this one's different, Josh."

Josh stops himself from rolling his eyes again, sitting back in his desk chair. "You say that every time, Sam."

"Well, okay, but this time-"

"You're right? I'll believe it when I see it, pal."

Sam folds his arms, glaring across the desk at his self-assured best friend. "Why don't you want me to be happy?"

"I _do_ want you to be happy, Sam. Which is precisely why I feel the need to be doubtful when I meet your girlfriends. You need some perspective on them, man, mostly because you fall in love with every woman to look at you twice."

"Hey, that's not true."

"Sam, you're a good guy. You cut people a lot of slack. You look past their negative aspects. Which, is fine in most areas, but when it comes to dating-"

"I need to exercise some discretion?"

"Exactly."

"This from the man who hasn't had a serious, long-term relationship since... Oh, that's right, ever."

Now it's Josh's turn to glare. "That's not the point."

"It's my point."

"All I'm saying is that my doubts balance out your..."

"Romanticism?"

"Impulsiveness."

"It's impulsivity."

"What?"

"The noun form of impulsive. It's impulsivity, not impulsiveness."

"Okay, whatever. You know what I mean."

"Will you at least give her a chance, Josh? I don't need another feud between you and one of my girlfriends in my life, because it always ends badly for me."

"That was Sarah's fault."

"And the one with Mia?"

"...I may have been partially responsible."

"Aha!"

"She was awful, though."

"That is true." Sam admits grudgingly.

"Okay, I'll be nice, are you happy? I'll give her a shot. Now will you please leave? I've got actual work to do."

"But don't be too charming."

"...What?"

"If another one of my significant others tells me that she's had a sex dream about you, this friendship is over."

Josh can't help but laugh. "Sam, I could never steal a girl from you. I hate them all too much, remember?"

"The feeling hasn't always been mutual." Sam grumbles.

"You've got nothing to worry about, Sam. I'll meet her tonight, I'll be nice, I'll be cordial, and I'll be entirely undesirable. Happy?"

"I don't even know what it is with you and women."

"It's the boyish thing."

"I'm leaving now."

"See ya tonight!"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

While he really had nothing to compare it to, Josh felt that his first State of the Union after party really blew. All he'd done all night was defend lines he hadn't written to people he didn't care about, only to be pulled aside by Leo to be told he was being too "abrasive." The foods were all things he couldn't pronounce and were too tiny to enjoy, and he had yet to have a drink.

It wasn't until ten thirty that he found a moment to himself to lean against a pillar and gather his thoughts. He surveys the room, trying as hard as he possibly can to camouflage. It is then that he sees, across the room, a young blonde woman being accosted by the infamously handsy Congressman Schultz. He is talking to her, or more likely slurring, and his hand is on her arm (though how long it would stay there before drifting astray is unclear). She's laughing uncomfortably. Josh decides it best for him to step in.

He walks over quickly, plastering a familiar smile on his face. "Hey! Laura!"

The young woman stares at him blankly as he beams at her. Schultz squints at him as though trying to place him. "You... Boy..."

"That's right, it's me, Congressman. Sorry to interrupt, it's just that I've known Laura here for ages, but it's been a while, and when I saw her over here talking to you..." He trails off. Understanding has finally dawned on 'Laura,' who begins to reciprocate his smile. "Hey, why don't I introduce you to some people? I'm sure Leo would love to meet you."

"Who?" Schultz mumbles.

The woman's eyes widen. "Oh, that sounds wonderful. I'm sorry, Congressman Schultz, I'll catch up with you later."

She smiles as she retreats with Josh, and Schultz slurs something that might be "Sounds good, doll."

When they're a safe distance away, he slows and turns to face her. "Sorry if I spooked you."

She merely raises an eyebrow. "Laura?"

He shrugs. "You look like a Laura."

"I'm not a Laura."

"Well, I figured Schultz wouldn't know that."

She chuckles. "Thanks, by the way. That guy was starting to creep me out."

"Trust me, five more minutes with the guy, and you would've been a lot more than creeped."

"Oh, so then you're really quite the hero."

He smirks. "You could say that."

"Right. So what's your name, Superman?"

"I'm-"

"No wait! Let me guess." She smiles devilishly.

"Alright. Go for it."

"I think _you_ look like a Carl."

"Carl? You're kidding me."

"Yeah, I am. I just wanted to get you back. How about... Jacob?"

"Close."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm Josh. Josh Lyman."

"Nice to meet you, Josh." She extends a hand, which he shakes with amusement. "You weren't very close, by the way. My name is Donna."

"Donna, huh?"

"Well, Donnatella, really. Donatella Moss."

"Really?" He can't keep a grin from spreading across his face. "Never would've guessed that."

"Don't worry about it. Few do."

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods? You here with someone?"

"What, just because you haven't heard of me I must be someone's date?"

"I am pretty important."

"Oh, are you now?"

"I'm the deputy-"

"Chief of Staff. Yeah, I know." She smirks at his confounded expression.

He recovers quickly. "See? I am important. Everyone knows who _I_ am."

"Maybe my _date_ told me who you were." She teases. "Anyway, how do you know you haven't heard of me? Maybe you've just forgotten."

"Would never forget a name like Donnatella." He bats back.

"Fair enough. I'm a congressional aide."

"To who?"

"Ian Randy."

"Oh yeah? Good guy."

"I know."

"Didn't know his staff got invites."

She looks at him sharply. "Fine. I'm a date."

"Aha!"

"You're so condescending."

"What? No I'm not."

"That smirk? The definition of condescending."

"No, it's just gloating. There's a difference."

"You're a condescending gloater."

"You're a bad loser."

"I'm pretty sure I won, actually. I got to tag along for free to the White House."

"Making lots of connections?"

"Bet your ass. One day, you'll have heard of me."

"I already have." Josh decides that he rather likes this woman. There was something off-putting about the combination of round, innocent blue eyes and a sharp wit. She was definitely not his type - but, he realizes, he rather liked that about her too. Over her shoulder, he waves to Sam, who approaches them. "So, who are you here with?"

"One of the speech writers, actually. The man of the hour. I'm sure you know him."

Before Josh can respond, Sam has reached them, and places a hand on Donna's shoulder. "Hey, Josh. I see you've met my girlfriend, and without my forcing you to! Color me surprised. Donna, tell me he's been good."

"This is _the_ Josh, then?"

"My best friend? Right. Though, not for much longer, if he's continued his streak."

"His streak?"

"Josh doesn't exactly have a great history with my girlfriends. Half of them end up hating him."

"And the other half?"

"They fall for him."

"Ah." She smiles. "Well, so far so good on both counts."

Josh is glad that they've been able to carry on the conversation without him, as he feels at least ten steps behind. He takes a moment to process before attempting a grin. "C'mon, Sam. You don't exactly have a great track record with women. Half of 'em are nightmares, the other half are idiots."

Sam gives him a warning glance. "Josh."

Donna doesn't seem to mind. "And which half are the ones that fell for you?"

Josh smirks. "So far so good on both counts though, Sam. With this one."

"Ah, I'm flattered."

"Hey, I said 'so far.' Don't make me change my mind."

"Because your opinion holds so much weight?"

"You're forgetting how important I am."

"You're right, Carl, forgive me."

"And now you seem to have forgotten who saved you earlier."

"Sorry."

Sam looks between them curiously for a moment. "At least you two seem to get along well."

Josh checks himself. He'd never before so much as _liked_ someone that Sam had dated, and here he was, borderline flirting with his best friend's newest love interest. He attributes this to the fact that he hadn't known who she was until moments ago. Had he known, he likely would've disliked her, as he did the rest. _Right?_ "Yeah."

He notices Donna gazing at him (with those distractingly blue eyes) and realizes his utterance had broken a stretch of uncomfortable silence.

Sam clears his throat. "Well, anyway, I was about to introduce Donna to Toby. Care to come with?"

Reading the mood, Josh shakes his head. "Nah, I'll catch up with you guys later. Gotta catch Grady before he's too drunk."

"Right. See ya later, man."

"It was nice meeting you, Josh." Donna extends her hand.

Josh takes it with a sparkle in his eyes. "And you... Laura."

He leaves them there, Donna looking amused and Sam befuddled. He figures that Donna would explain the joke.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Over the course of the next week, Josh tries diligently to put Donna Moss out of his mind. It would be easier, of course, if Sam would quit yammering on about her.

"So, what'd you think of Donna?" He asks Josh as they leave senior staff the next morning.

"Hm?" Josh jerks around to look at him. He tries not to let his expression reveal his alarm - he had been hoping Sam wouldn't ask. "Oh, yeah, I like her. She's fine."

"Really? That's a first."

Josh shrugs, as if he hadn't given it much thought. "I guess so."

"She really seemed to like you."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Yeah."

And that's all he'd gotten. Just 'yeah'. That's all he had to think about. That and her smile, which was entirely too memorable. _But I'm not supposed to be thinking about her at all,_ he reminds himself constantly. He writes it off as pleasant surprise. He'd met a woman, he'd liked her, and she'd turned out to belong to a set of women he generally disliked. That was all. He was just surprised.

And that would've been the end of it, had Sam not persisted in talking about her all week. First, it was in the bullpen, when Leo had mentioned a great restaurant he'd been to the previous night. And Sam had replied, "Oh, I'll have to take Donna there."

And _bam_ , just like that, she was back in his thoughts. He had only just rid himself of her. Now, he had to start all over again.

Then, it was a couple days later, and CJ mentioned an article she'd read. And Sam piped up, "Oh yeah, Donna was talking about that over breakfast."

 _Now, the breakfast might have been totally innocent,_ Josh attempts to reassure himself. But he couldn't help but let his mind stray to her staying over in Sam's apartment, waking up beside him... Why did the image bother him so much?

And then he had to start all over again.

Then, on Friday, Sam had dared to ask him about his weekend plans. He'd shrugged it off with a "Not much, you?"

And in the split second before Sam's answer, he curses himself for adding "you?" to the end of it. Why did he even open that door? He knew what was coming. Maybe he wanted to hear it. Maybe he wanted to think about her.

"Oh, not much. Probably spend some time with Donna."

"God, will you just shut _up_ about her already?" Josh groans before immediately regretting his outburst. He chances a glance at Sam, who looks confused and hurt.

"I thought you liked her, Josh."

 _I do. I really do._ "I mean, I do, it's just... You shouldn't get too attached, man, not so quickly. It's come back to bite you before."

Sam squints at him, and Josh prays he buys his excuse. "Oh. Okay, I guess you're right."

Josh inwardly lets out a sigh of relief. _Now, surely, this must be the end of it._

But then, Monday morning came, and all of his valiant efforts to forget their _stupid_ flirting, and their _stupid_ eye contact, and Sam's _stupid_ hand on her shoulder were all blown to hell. At first, he thought he might be hallucinating.

"Josh?"

Josh turns around at the hand on his shoulder while in line at the coffee cart, and his face splits into a grin of its own accord.

"Oh my gosh, hi." Donna says quickly. "What a coincidence."

"Yeah, hi." There's an awkward split second where they can't seem to decide if now is the appropriate time for a handshake, or a hug - _no, definitely not a hug_ , he chides himself - or some other greeting. Josh clears his throat. "This is weird. It's good to see you again, though."

"Yeah, definitely." She replies, seemingly relieved. "So, how's your week been?"

"It's been, uh, good." _A daze._ "Busy, you know. Big night seemed to go well though, so the press has been kind."

"Yeah, I've seen. Sam's been pretty proud of himself."

 _Ugh. Sam. Right._ He presses on. "How's your week been?"

"Oh, fine." She replies absently, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Surely not nearly as busy as yours. I did get to comb through H404, though, so that was fun."

"Oh, interesting read, was it?"

She laughs. "I'll take it you also enjoyed the section on abstinence only education?"

He shakes his head, grinning. "My favorite was definitely the suggested slogan 'No sex is the best sex'."

"Mine too. That hasn't been my experience in the past, but hey, who am I to judge? Keith should be free to live as he pleases."

"I dunno, when I read it, I was thinking about personally sending the guy a hooker."

"Oh, and do you buy hookers often?" She dead pans.

"Only for friends." He smirks. _Dammit, we're doing the thing again. The bantering thing._ He attempts to get them back on topic. "He's gotta know it'll never pass."

"Not the way he's been been pushing it. Hey, I think you're next."

Josh looks away from her to find that the line in front of him has disappeared, leaving a five foot gap between him and the noticeably irritated barista. He moves forward quickly. "Right. Sorry."

Donna chuckles.

"Large latte. Hey, let me buy your coffee."

His companion raises her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah. It'll move the line quicker, and maybe get all of these angry people to stop glaring at me." He attempts a charming grin. _No, shit, Sam said not to be charming._ Oh well.

She gives him a small smile that he thinks might be... Embarrassed? "I actually didn't come for coffee."

"Then, what are you doing here exactly?"

"They sell gelato."

Josh turns to look at the man in front of him, who gestures pointedly to the "Coffee and Gelato" sign above his head. "Right." He turns back to Donna. "It's like below freezing."

"It is not." She says defensively. "Just pay for your own if you're going to be so judgmental."

"No, no." He says quickly, smiling. "Not at all. I'll gladly pay for you to freeze yourself to death. Tell him what you want."

"Chocolate gelato." She beams, and the man nods his assent.

Josh pays for their food and they set out on their way, him cradling his hot coffee as Donna (inhumanly, he might add) eats her gelato.

He stares at her unabashedly. "You're weird."

She looks at him reproachfully, unaware that she has chocolate on her face. "I knew you were judging me."

"Not like, bad weird. Like the cute and quirky kind of weird." He doesn't know what just possessed him to say that. He'd never used the word cute for anything except baby animals before.

Donna doesn't seem to notice. "I hate the word quirky." She opines.

"Why?"

"It's kind of sexist, don't you think? When's the last time you ever heard a man being called quirky?"

"I call men quirky all the time, as a matter of fact."

"You do?" She says dubiously.

"Well..."

"Aha!"

"Whatever. Maybe it is sexist." He relents.

"And a little demeaning."

"It's a compliment!"

"A backhanded one, sure." She says adamantly, though her eyes reveal a trace of humor.

"I'm sorry, I can't take anything you say seriously right now." He can't help a slight chuckle. "You've got chocolate on your face."

"I do?" Her tongue shoots out of her mouth in the wrong direction, missing it completely. He laughs. "Did I get it?"

"Nope."

She uses her coat sleeve next. "How bout now?"

"Still no. Here, let me." Before he can stop himself, he's raised his hand and wiped the chocolate from her face with a thumb. Immediately realizing what he's done, he looks at her in shock.

To his relief, she merely regards him with amicable curiosity. Her eyes are wide. "Your hands are cold."

"Well, it's cold outside. So cold, some might say, that you wouldn't want to eat ice cream." And with that, the tension is broken.

"Jerk."

"Freak."

"Loser."

"Quirky."

"Sexist."

They stare at each other for a moment longer before bursting into laughter.

"You're weird, too." She manages after calming down.

"I have a funny feeling you mean that as a compliment."

"Maybe." She says coyly. Her expression changes when she realizes where they are, and he thinks it might be regretful. "Oh, this is where I turn."

"Oh, right." He says quickly. He tries to mask any disappointment.

"I'll see you... Later." She says vaguely, realizing she didn't know when that would be.

"Yeah. It's been fun."

"Yeah." She resumes her smile from earlier. "Thanks for the gelato."

"Any time."

"Have a good day."

"You too."

She waves as their paths diverge, hers toward the Hill and his to the White House. _Dammit_ , he thinks over his accelerated heartbeat, _I guess there's no end in sight._

 **A/N: This scene was inspired by a scene in He Shall From Time to Time (appropriate, no?) in which Josh and Donna were returning from what I assume is lunch, and Josh was holding coffee while Donna ate ice cream. Just one of those little moments that you start to notice and find adorable once you've watched the series as many times as I have.**

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

That Friday, (four days of intense denial later), Josh is again face to face with the subject of his guilty, suppressed thoughts. He sits behind his desk, zoning out over a memo on deindustriization, when there's a light rap at his door.

He looks up to find Donna leaning around his doorframe in a stunning red dress, a playful look on her face. "Is this a bad time?"

He takes a moment to absorb the moment. _She is real,_ he eventually decides. He grins. "No, not at all. Come in."

Donna smiles and enters clumsily, tripping on her heels. She sighs exasperatedly and collapses into the chair across from him.

"You okay, there?"

"These damn shoes." She mutters. "This is the fourth time today."

"Damn. Why put yourself through that?"

She pouts. "They complete my look."

Assuming that it's now appropriate for him to comment on it, he gives her an appreciative look. "You do look pretty amazing."

"Why thank you." She beams. Her fishing for a compliment had been successful.

"Going somewhere nice?"

"Yeah, Sam and I are going somewhere fancy. He's gotta work on Valentine's Day, so we're celebrating tonight."

 _Right_ , Josh recalls, _Valentine's Day_. He won't pretend he hadn't felt a little good when Leo had delivered the bad news to his deputy communications director. "That's too bad."

Donna hadn't really needed to come to the White House tonight, if she was completely honest with herself. Sam had asked her to meet him at the restaurant, but she'd asked if they could meet here instead, claiming that she'd never seen the West Wing, his place of work. That was what she'd convinced herself of, too. In truth, there was one particular staffer she'd wanted to see. "Not really. Anyway, thought I'd stop in and say hi."

"Missed me?"

"Oh, terribly, yes." She jokes. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"God, no. This memo is putting me to sleep."

"What's it about?"

"Deindustrialization."

She frowns. "Deindustrialization is fascinating, Josh."

"Are you serious?"

"I am. Here, let me see it."

He raises his eyebrows at her. "You want me to hand you this confidential government document?"

"Your memo on deindustrialization is confidential?"

"Fine. You can take a look. But when Sam has to come collect his snoring girlfriend from my office, you won't be so smug."

She rolls her eyes, reaching out a hand for the file. "I don't snore."

"Sure you don't."

He passes her the file, and she immediately begins to scan it. "Pen."

"What?"

"Pen, please."

"Why?"

"So I can make you some notes."

He scoffs. "I don't need notes."

She looks up at him dubiously. "And if you have any sticky notes, or note cards, that'd be good too."

He begins to root around his desk drawer, mumbling something that sounds like "freak" as he passes her the supplies. They're interrupted a moment later by a faint beeping, followed by the sound of running.

"Ah, shit." Josh mutters, standing and walking toward the door.

"What's that?" Donna looks up at him, confused.

"Lockdown, probably." He starts to walk out into the hallway, but is stopped by the appearance of a burly secret service agent.

"Sorry, Mr. Lyman. You can't leave your office."

"What happened?"

"We've got a code red, sir."

"Is this a drill?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"I can tell you that you need to remain in this room."

"Shit."

He turns back to Donna, who looks frightened. "What's happening? Is everyone okay?"

"I wouldn't worry about it." Josh says breezily, trying to sound reassuring. "This happens all the time. The worst part of it is just that we'll be stuck here for a while."

Or the best part, depending on how you look at it.

He returns to his seat, and Donna seems to calm down. "This happens all the time?"

"Almost every week." Well, maybe not that often. But often enough.

"Oh. Okay." She takes a deep breath. "Okay."

"I'm sure Sam's fine, too." He adds as an afterthought.

"Right." She says quickly. She hadn't even thought about him, she realizes with a start. She shakes her head. "Well, looks like I've got plenty of time to make notes then, eh?" She says brightly, trying to lighten the situation.

He rolls his eyes, amused. "Looks like it. How long do you think we'll be in here, Phil?"

"I'd say at least a couple hours, Mr. Lyman." The secret service agent replies, before listening in to his headpiece. "Right... Okay, I'm going to close this door now, Mr. Lyman. Do not open it until I come to get you."

"Gotcha." Outwardly, Josh does not react to this. Inwardly, though, he panics. His last safeguards, the open door, and Phil's presence, had just disappeared. Deciding that he was not equipped to handle this situation on his own, he types a quick email before picking up and dialing his phone.

"Sorry, just gotta make a quick call."

"Mm." Donna mumbles in assent, absorbed in the memo.

"Hello?"

"Toby. How are you holding up?"

"I feel trapped. There was good game on tonight, you know."

"I know. Any idea what this is about?"

"No clue. In fact, my agent gave me quite a bit of lip just for asking."

"Same here. Hey, do me a favor and check your email, would you?"

"Why?"

"I sent you something."

"What is it?"

"Just go find out for yourself, Toby." Josh says tersely.

"Fine." Toby grumbles. There is a pause before he speaks again. "Josh, are you kidding me?"

"I'm not."

The email reads: _Toby I'm stuck in my office alone with Sam's extremely attractive girlfriend please help me_

"This is pathetic."

"I didn't call you for your judgment, Toby."

"Well, then, I'm hanging up."

"No! Wait."

"You really can't handle this on your own?"

"No."

"Fine. I'll help you. But only because I'm beyond bored right now."

"I knew I could count on you."

"Don't think that this is going to become a regular thing."

"Of course not." Josh smiles.

From the other end of the West Wing, Toby frowns. "You know you just sent this with your government email account, right?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

At this, Donna looks up curiously. "Desperate times?"

He dismisses her with a smile and a shake of his head.

"Meaning, thousands of government agents could read this."

"Hold on, Toby, let me type out a follow up email." He cradles the phone between his ear and shoulder and types something else.

"Josh, what are you-"

"Sent."

"I'm refreshing, I'm refreshing... Ah, now this is mature."

"I thought so."

This email reads: _DESPERATE TIMES CALL FOR DESPERATE MEASURES. Shove it up your ass, NSA_

"Okay, so I take it you're having a hard time being stuck with Donna."

"You've met her?" He asks before immediately cursing himself. He has to keep his end of the conversation as vague as possible.

"Yeah, I have. Nice girl."

"Right."

"Let me ask you this: are you just attracted to her, or do you like her? Because that's an important difference."

"The second one."

"Oh, that's worse."

"I know." Josh says through gritted teeth. "Believe me, I know."

"So, you're afraid you're going to do something to let her know that you're in love with her?"

"Jesus, Toby! Keep your voice down."

Donna continues to listen in curiously, staring at him. He gives her a sheepish smile.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Yes, okay? Yes. But I'm not in... What you said. I'm not."

"Okay, Josh. Anyway, here's my golden advice: just don't do it."

"...Really? That's it?"

"You care about Sam, right?"

"Right."

"And you don't want to hurt him?"

"Right."

"So then, just keep thinking about that. Think about how he'd never speak to you again if you did anything or said anything to ruin this for him."

"You really think so?"

"...Well, no, he's Sam. So he'd probably forgive you in a week, but still. It'd hurt him."

"You're right." Josh mutters.

"Not only that, but falling in love with-"

"I'm not."

"Falling in love with your best friend's girlfriend is just off-limits. It's just something you don't do. It's like, say, falling in love with your assistant."

"I dunno, I think falling in love with your assistant is worse." Josh says before he can stop himself.

Donna furrows her brow at him. "Who's falling in love with their assistant?"

"Some guy in policy." Josh covers quickly. "They've been pining for each other for eight years, it's really sad."

"Oh. That is sad." She agrees.

"You were just talking to her, weren't you?"

"Yupp."

Much to his dismay, Donna stands from her chair and slowly makes her way around his desk, fiddling with his papers.

"Who are you on the phone with?"

"Toby."

"Oh. Tell him I say hi."

"Donna says hi, Toby."

"You're pathetic."

"He says hi back."

Donna smiles before lifting herself atop his desk, crossing her legs and watching him.

"Alright, I'll talk to you later, Toby."

"She just moved closer to you, didn't she? Your voice got really strained."

"That is correct."

"She's sitting on your desk, isn't she?"

"Yeah."

"Is she wearing a dress?"

"Okay, bye, Toby." Josh hangs up hastily, trying to keep his gaze from straying to her long legs.

"What was that about?" She asks with a smile.

"Nothing." He says quickly, before realizing how suspicious that sounded. "You know, work stuff. Confidential."

"Actually confidential, or confidential like how this memo was confidential?"

"Umm."

She laughs. "Anyway, I finished the notes for you."

"Already?"

"Yeah. Wasn't hard." She hands him back his memo and a stack of notecards, which he skims.

"You have terrible handwriting," is his first comment, to which she responds by shoving his shoulder. After a moment, though, he realizes the notecards are actually filled with insight. "Hey, these are actually pretty helpful."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You do this for Randy a lot?"

"Yeah, I do. Mostly because I enjoy it. And I've got the head for details. He doesn't."

Josh smiles, thinking of the grandfatherly old congressman. "Well, honestly, neither do I."

"I figured."

He looks up from the notecards, and is surprised to find his hands almost in her lap. He leans back hastily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." She says sweetly.

"I don't believe you." It's back. The grin. The stupid grin he can't seem to keep at bay when he's near her. _Sam_ , he reminds himself, _she's with Sam_.

"Now that's just hurtful."

 _Later that evening..._

"I'm hungry."

"Me too." Having forfeited the more comfortable seat to his guest, Josh reclines in his visitor's chair, feet up on the desk.

"I was going to have cheesecake tonight." She says morosely. "So much for that."

"Let me see what I can do." He scrambles to his feet and knocks on his own closed door.

A few moments later, the door cracks open, and Phil's face reappears. "Yes, Mr. Lyman?"

"Do you have a time estimate of when we'll be out of here?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"Well, do you think we could at least get some food in here? You've thrown a bit of a wrench in this woman's dinner plans, you see."

Phil looks past him to Donna, who smiles apologetically.

"I'll see what I can do, guys."

The door closes again, and remains closed until a few minutes later, when Phil enters carrying the White House's finest selection of vending machine snacks. "This is the best I could do, guys."

"Looks great, man. Still no word on getting out?"

"Nope. Sorry."

Phil retreats once more, closing the door behind him. Josh turns to look at his desk, which is strewn with snacks. "Well, what'll you have? Pretzels? Zebra cakes?"

"Zebra cakes." She says happily, reaching for them and tearing open the packaging. "You're my hero." She says around a mouthful of cake.

"That makes two times in as many weeks." He says proudly, grabbing a Diet Coke and sitting back in his chair.

She levels her gaze at him. "Don't get too cocky, there, Carl."

"And here I thought you'd forgotten that detail of our introduction."

"Never."

"You're right, should've known you wouldn't. You're quirky that way."

In response, she tears off a piece of cake and chucks it at him before he can react. "Hey!"

She shrugs, grinning maddeningly. He returns her throw, which has left a residue of cream on his shirt, with a pretzel stick.

"No fair, I'm out of ammo!"

"Too bad." He chucks another pretzel stick at her. She grabs a pack of Doritos and tears it open.

"Ah, not those! I hate those. Those will leave orange powder all over me and-" he's cut off by a Dorito hitting him squarely in the chest.

"You'll pay for that." They continue to chuck food at each other until eventually Josh accidentally lands a pretzel in the neckline of her dress, causing them both to freeze. Within a moment they've dissolved into laughter.

 _Even later that evening..._

"So, Harvard?"

"Hm?" He follows her gaze to his diplomas on the wall. "Oh, yeah."

"And Yale?"

"Yeah."

"Overachiever much?"

He smiles. "I guess you could say that. Where'd you go to school?"

For some reason, this question seems to make her incredibly uncomfortable, as she immediately begins to avoid his gaze. He wonders if maybe he shouldn't have asked, if perhaps she was embarrassed of her school. "I went to the University of Wisconsin."

"That's not a bad school." He says, almost confused by her answer.

"For two years." She adds. "I dropped out."

"Oh." Is all he can think to say for a moment. She was a dropout? "Money reasons?"

"Sort of." She shifts uncomfortably. "I needed to work."

"Boyfriend reasons?" He guesses, and she finally meets his eyes.

"How'd you know?"

"He was older?"

"I mean..."

"Law student?"

"Med student."

He nods. He'd had a lot of law school classmates who'd pulled the same asshole maneuver as that guy. "So what happened between you and Dr. Free ride? Things didn't end so well?"

She bites her lip. "He was... Well, he wasn't a great guy. What we had was awful. And eventually, I just had to leave."

"You made the right choice." He says quietly, noticing the far-away look in her eyes.

She smiles at him in acknowledgement. "Thankfully, I was able to get a job on the Congressman's reelection campaign, and then they hired me full-time after he won. And I've never looked back. I've never loved anything like I love working here."

"I'm glad."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. This suits you."

She smiles at him, not flirtatiously, not coyly, but genuinely, and he's a goner. "I really love helping people. But sometimes I feel like I don't make a difference."

"Trust me. You do."

He smiles at her, genuinely, and she's a goner. "Thank you."

"Yeah. No problem."

She leans forward on his desk, chin braced on her arms. "I do like Sam, you know."

This surprises him. "What?"

"I said that I like Sam. Your best friend? Remember him?" She teases.

He smiles. "Yeah. But, of course you like him. You're dating him."

"I mean that, I like him, it's just... I hope you don't mind me saying this." She says, suddenly aware that he could tell her boyfriend exactly what she'd said if he wanted to.

"No, go ahead."

She looks at him for a moment, gauging his trustworthiness. "I like Sam. I do." She establishes for the third time. "He's sweet, he's smart, he's not anything like my crappy ex-boyfriend."

"Right." Josh had no idea where this was going.

"But... I don't know. It's too soon to tell, I guess, isn't it? I still have time to fall in love with him, don't I?"

He opens his mouth in surprise. _So, she's not in love with him?_ "Well, how long have you been dating?"

"About a month and a half. I just always thought it was supposed to happen sooner than this. That you were supposed to know."

"Yeah." Josh agrees, contemplating.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. He's the kind of guy I'd want to fall in love with." She says quickly, not wanting to offend him.

"Yeah, he's a great guy. A really great guy." He reminds himself of this fact. His best friend was a great guy, and like a brother to him. And the fact that his girlfriend wasn't in love with him shouldn't make him feel hopeful.

"Have you ever been in love, Josh?" She asks absently, gazing at him with dreamy eyes.

He smiles slightly, shifting in his seat. "I dunno. I don't think so."

"No?"

"Nah. At least, if what I've felt constitutes being in love, then I don't really understand what all the songs are about."

"Hm." She says thoughtfully. "That's a good way to put it."

 _Even later that evening..._

"I don't know why she has to have _another_ baby shower. She's already had one, shouldn't she still have all the baby stuff?"

Josh is now the one sitting on the desk, having come over to look at something Donna wanted to point out to him in a memo. He looks down at her, curled like a cat in his chair. "How much older than you is she?"

"Nine years."

"Wow."

"Yeah. My parents had Dylan and Ava really close together, waited seven years, and had Manny and I."

"So you're the baby." He grins.

"I am." She confirms. "What's really annoying is that they got the normal Irish names, and we got the weird Italian ones."

"...Manny is weird and Italian?"

"His name is Manuelo."

"Ah. That makes more sense."

She smiles, resting her chin on her knee tiredly. "Do you have any siblings?"

His words arrive before he has time to decide if he wants them to. "I did, yeah. I had an older sister. Her name was Joanie."

Her brow furrows at his use of the past tense, but she doesn't say anything. She waits to see if he'll explain.

"She died. When I was a kid." He doesn't know why he's telling her this. No one in this building, save Leo, knew about Joanie. He'd never willingly told anyone. When he'd been referred to that psychologist, he'd given him the bare minimum of the story, not even telling him how she died. And here he was, tempted to tell everything to this woman he barely knew. "There was a fire, while she was babysitting me. Something about a popcorn maker."

Reflexively, Donna reaches out to take his hand, resting on the desk. Her eyes are wide and sympathetic. "God, I'm sorry, Josh."

"I ran out of the house."

"Of course you did, Josh. Why wouldn't you have? That's what you were supposed to do."

He doesn't look at her, gaze resting on their joined hands. "Right. Yeah."

"It's not your fault, you know." She says, reading his expression precisely.

Her ability to do that was almost spooky. He meets her gaze. "Thanks."

"Yeah." She gives his hand a squeeze.

"It's been a long night, eh?" He says, attempting to inject some levity into the conversation.

"Yeah, it has." She admits. "But it could've been worse."

"A lot worse." He agrees. Not for the first time that night, they share a smile. These looks felt secret, somehow. Like they meant something.

At that moment, the door opens noisily. Josh stands immediately, withdrawing his hand from hers, knowing what their current position might suggest. Donna looks up, wide eyed. Phil enters the office, smiling.

"All clear, guys. There was a credible threat, it wasn't a drill, but everything is good now. You're free to go."

"Oh. Great." Josh says, not meaning it.

"Everyone's okay?" Donna asks.

Phil nods. "Everything went fine, ma'am."

"Okay. That's good."

He realizes that they're standing in very close proximity behind his desk, and places his hand gently on her arm to move past her. She doesn't move. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, hand on her arm (which she didn't seem to find at all unnatural) and knows that he should maybe say "Sorry. Gotta get by." or something to clue her in. But he doesn't.

Its only after the appearance of Sam that she springs into action, moving away from him swiftly and toward his best friend.

"Oh, hey." She says breathlessly.

"Hey." He says curiously, glancing past her into Josh's office. "You just spent the last three hours with Josh?"

"Yeah. Where'd you think I was?"

"I thought you hadn't arrived yet. I thought they'd turned you away at the doors. I tried calling you."

"Cell died." She says truthfully.

"Yeah, I gathered. So, you're... Okay?"

But he isn't looking at her. He's looking at Josh.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Slept most of the time."

"That's good. You two didn't get on each other's nerves?" He says dubiously.

"No, we were fine. Got along great."

Realizing his silence is conspicuous, Josh adds "Yeah, it was fun. She read some of my memos to entertain herself."

"Really?" Sam asks with amusement. Donna nods, smiling. "Hey, why are there Doritos all over your floor?"

"Oh, well, umm... I spilled them."

"You hate Doritos."

"Umm..."

"That's weird that you know that." Donna saves him with a laugh, a hand on Sam's arm. "Anyway, I'm starving."

"I'd imagine we've missed our dinner reservations."

"That's okay. We can get crappy Chinese food."

Sam shrugs. "Fine by me. I'll see you on Monday, Josh."

"Yeah, see you." Josh replies robotically, the dull ache in his chest distracting him.

"I'll, umm, see you later." Donna says quickly, making harried eye contact with him as Sam leads her out the door.

"Bye, Donnatella." Her full name is out of his mouth before he can stop it. Thankfully, Sam doesn't notice. She gives him a smile before disappearing around the doorframe.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Josh's weekend was a blur. He worked more than he slept, but come Monday, he was still up early and in line at the damn coffee and gelato cart. He'd avoided it all last week for fear of seeing her - but now, that was the only thing he wanted.

He was considering letting several people get in front of him to prolong his time in line, when someone stepped in line beside him. She, too, looked a little drained.

"Hey." She gives him a slight smile.

"Hi." He returns it easily. The strange part was that he wasn't at all surprised by her presence. "How was your weekend?"

"Not great. You?"

"Same."

"Yeah." She says softly. They take a step forward in line, and he casts a glance at her expression. She looks thoughtful, chewing her lip. She turns to him after a moment. "So, we should be friends, right?"

"Hm?" Had he heard her correctly?

"We should be friends, shouldn't we? I mean, this is weird. But I don't like... Not talking to you."

She looks nervous about his answer. He didn't like not talking to her, either. "Yeah. We should be."

She breaks into a smile. "Okay. Good."

"You want gelato?"

"Coffee, actually. And I'm buying."

"No, I can-"

"Ah-ah. No buts. What kind of friend would I be if I let you pay for me every morning?"

" _Every_ morning?" He asks curiously.

"I don't see why we wouldn't keep bumping into each other here, do you?"

He smiles. "No. I guess not."

And that's how it was for a while. They were friends. They spent ten minutes together every morning, and they'd be lying if they said it wasn't one of the best parts of each of their days. They talked, they laughed. And when they saw each other while with Sam, they would share one of those smiles. Smiles which shouldn't feel so secretive, so stolen, but they did. Because they meant something.

It still ached to see her with Sam. But he'd rather be friends than nothing at all.

A month or so later, Josh is interrupted in his phone call to a congresswoman by Toby's entrance into his office. Toby motions that he'll wait, and Josh wraps up his phone call.

"Hey, what's up?" He says upon hanging up.

"Now, I don't normally do this."

"Do what?"

"Spread gossip."

Josh squints at him. "You're about to... Gossip with me?"

"No."

"I'm confused."

"I just thought it might be of some interest to you that Sam and Donna broke up." Toby informs him.

Josh tries to maintain a neutral expression. "Oh... Really?"

"Try not to look so happy about it." Toby quips before leaving his office as he quickly as he'd entered it.

For the rest of the morning, Josh tries desperately not to think about the news Toby had given him. He hadn't seen Donna that morning, which had struck him as odd, but he'd figured she'd just been sick or had an early meeting. Now, he wasn't so sure. Maybe she'd been avoiding him.

Before lunch, he can't resist stopping by Sam's office. Sam looks surprisingly normal to Josh, given that he'd just lost what Josh presumed to be the best thing to ever happen to him. "Hey, man."

"I'll take it that you heard."

"Heard what?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "Don't play dumb. You wouldn't be talking to me like that if you didn't already know that Donna and I broke up."

Josh schools his expression into what he hopes is sympathy. "I'm really sorry, Sam."

"Thanks."

He should leave. He should just leave, he knows that he should. He'd said all that needed to be said. "What happened?"

Sam levels his gaze at him over his glasses. "It was pretty mutual. We both realized it wasn't working out, that we'd be better off as friends."

"Oh. Oh, okay." Josh turns to leave, but evidently Sam wasn't done.

"And we both knew she had feelings for someone else." Josh whips around to look at him, and Sam gives him a slight smile. "It's okay, Josh. It's not your fault."

"You're... She's..."

"She likes you, Josh. And I know the feeling is mutual." Silence follows this declaration, and Sam gazes at his best friend steadily. His eyes give him away.

"I really didn't mean for this to happen." Josh says earnestly, putting his happiness aside for a moment.

"I know you didn't. But it did. And that's that." Sam looks back down at his desk, feigning nonchalance. "You don't have to wait, you know. You don't to have to wait an appropriate courtesy period before you ask her out, out of deference to me, I mean. I really don't mind. And I know she'd say yes."

And because Sam was infinitely better at hiding his feelings than his best friend was, Josh believed him. "Oh. Oh... Okay. I mean, I don't know."

"Would you mind giving me the room? I really need to focus on Wednesday's address."

"Oh. Right. Of course."

There was no address on Wednesday. But thankfully, Josh was in too much of a daze to notice.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

He doesn't remember his trip to the Hill, but he thinks he must've been going pretty fast, because by the time Josh arrives, he's short of breath.

He catches her in the hall, on her way to lunch with a coworker. She stops when she sees him, and a smile spreads slowly across her face.

"I heard you broke up." Is all he says, with no greeting or preamble.

"We did."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"But I am. Because rumor has it that it was a little bit my fault."

Her coworker looks utterly confused, and a bit enthralled, by whatever is happening.

"A little full of yourself there, eh, Carl?"

He's grinning. That stupid grin that she loves. "Do you want to go grab a coffee or something? Maybe gelato?"

"How about some real food?"

"That sounds good too."

"Is it okay if I catch up with you later, Janet?" Her coworker nods with a smile. "Alright. Let's go."

His hand finds the small of her back as if it's the most natural thing in the world, as if he's done so a thousand times. And they leave, together.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 **Well gang, how do you feel? I didn't hate it too much ;) Plus, I've already written an epilogue to this, so I'll be posting that no matter what the vote says. (If this wins, though, I'll definitely expand it). Which brings me to the vote!**

 **To remind you, the AUs are as follows.**

 ** _Chapter 1: The car accident, pre series_**

 ** _Chapter 2: The morning after what Donna had thought to be a one night stand, mid season two_**

 ** _Chapter 3: Josh has a kid, who has Donna for a teacher, pre series_**

 ** _Chapter 4: The "what if" set the night of Bartlet's second inauguration, mid season four_**

 ** _Chapter 5: The "my best friend's girl" AU, season oneish_**

 **Alright! Pick which one you most want to see me continue, and leave a review casting your vote!**

 **Also, any prompts for some fun AUs I can put these two into next would be much appreciated :) Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey all! This is just a cute little He Shall from Time to Time AU. Nothing serious.**

 **In other news, the votes have been tallied, and the winner is Chapter 3! Thanks so much to everyone who voted :) I'll expand it as soon as I get the time.**

 **Also, I've written a bit more for some other chapters, which I'll probably post here or in separate stories. Keep an eye out!**

 **Rating: T**

 **Reviews: Yes please! Always! I was so happy to see how many of you voted!**

 **Disclaimer: Don't mistake me for Sorkin. It's offensive because I'm prettier.**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"So, I just kissed him. You know, on the mouth." CJ elaborates, eyes unfocused and dreamy. Sam and Josh just stare at her.

"You kissed a White House reporter?"

"There was nothing to it. I was just trying to move past my... Preoccupation."

"Did it work?"

"I'm not really sure yet."

Sam and Josh share an amused look. Obviously, she was still preoccupied. "And this was inspired by Mallory kissing me?"

"Yes."

"Well, I can only imagine Danny feels as confused as I do."

Josh is still hung up on how lacking in professionalism her advance had been. "You really just... Kissed him? Even though your jobs are a conflict of interest?"

"Well, I figured it was for the best. All of that tension was interfering with my work, anyhow. Far more than a kiss would."

"Huh."

"I decided to grab the bull by the horns."

He's no longer looking at her, but is instead gazing at a spot somewhere in the distance. "I have to go do something." He mutters suddenly.

His friends furrow their brows at him. "We're leaving in five minutes, Josh." Sam reminds him.

"Won't take long." He brushes past them, not looking at them. On his way out, he pauses beside his assistant. "Can I see you in my office for a minute?"

"Aren't you about to leave?"

"Doesn't matter. C'mon." He grabs her wrist and drags her out of the room with him, to her affront.

"Hey, Josh, what the hell are you-"

"Shut up, it'll only be a minute."

He releases her once they're inside his office, and shuts the door softly behind them. "CJ kissed Danny." He says without preamble.

"Oh... Kay?" She stares at him as if he's gone round the bend. "Did you bring me here to gossip?"

"She kissed him because he was distracting."

"So?"

"So she wanted to confront it."

"I'm sorry, is there a point to this?"

"I find you distracting."

"You do?"

"Yes." He steps closer to her.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I was going to confront it."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"I'm not sure I'm follow- Mm."

He cuts her off, raising his hand to the side of her face and pressing his lips to hers. It's a long time before either of them pulls back.

"You think you've solved it, then?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think you won't be distracted by me anymore?"

"No." He grins. "But I think it's a good thing."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"You're telling me that you kissed her because I kissed Danny?"

"Yes."

"And she kissed Danny because Mallory kissed me?"

"Right."

"And _you're_ the one that gets a relationship out of it? That's not fair."

"Why not?"

"Because you're just a copy cat."

He shrugs. "All I did was take your idea and make it better. I didn't half ass it."

"Hey!"

"I'm saying, if you're going to do something, do it right. Why stop at a kiss?"

"Well, because..."

"Seize the day. Carpe diem."

"I want to punch him."

"He looks too happy."

"I am happy."

"Well, I'd be happy too if I had a twentysomething blonde to come home to at the end of the day."

"Hey, you can have this happiness for yourself. You can join me in the land of the free, and the home of the... Brave."

"Now you're just quoting the national anthem."

"I realized it once I said it, CJ."

"You know Mandy's gonna be pissed when she finds out, right?"

"Yeah, but not about bad press. And I honestly couldn't care less."

"Fair enough."

"Really, guys. You should follow my example."

"How?"

"Enough of this in between bullshit. Either be with someone or don't."

"But it's complicated."

"Tough."

"He really does look too happy."

"I've gotta go talk to Danny."

"I've gotta go talk to Mallory."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"I cannot _believe_ you three."

"In our defense-"

"Shut up. I don't want to hear it. In one week - _one week_ \- three members of my senior staff have started inappropriate relationships."

"I wouldn't describe mine as inappropriate, Leo."

"It's with my daughter, so yes, it is."

"Right."

"First, my deputy chief of staff starts dating his assistant-"

"Former assistant. She got a job in Congresswoman Wyatt's office."

"-then my press secretary began dating a reporter-"

"I can guarantee you that he's not getting any preferential treatment, Leo."

"-and finally my deputy communications director is now in a relationship with my daughter."

"...I really have no defense."

"I shouldn't have to explain to you all that not only are these extreme conflicts of interest, but that working in the White House doesn't leave any time for a personal life. I of all people should know. The only other person who seems to understand this is Toby."

"Actually, once Andy hired Donna, she started to believe in love again and she and Toby have reconciled."

"For Christ's sake!"

"Leo, who said we couldn't have personal lives? The line between home and work is wherever we draw it, and frankly, we need to stop drawing it so heavily in favor of work. We can have time if we make time." Sam says seriously.

"The country doesn't stop for your love life, Sam. Or for either of you."

"Yes, but-"

"Now. Who can I blame for all of this?"

"Josh."

"CJ."

"Sam."

"Mallory."

"God help me."

"Leo, c'mon. We're just living our lives."

"Seizing the day. Carpe diem."

"Get out of my office." Leo growls. Once they've left (in remarkably undiminished spirits), Leo sits stoically at his desk, staring at the picture of himself, Jenny, and Mallory on his desk. "Margaret!"

"Yes?"

"Get Jenny on the phone, would you?"


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I've written a little AU that takes place after the episode The Cold. It's been done before, but I wanted to do it myself. I turned a very angsty episode ending into one of the cutest things I've ever written.**

 **You've been forewarned: It's adorable.**

 **Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Donna pulls open her door at the loud knock from the other side. When she does, a smile spreads across her face. "Josh."

He brushes past her into the hotel room without invitation. "Don't know what the hell you're playing at here, Moss. That was incredibly confusing."

She furrows her brow. "What was?"

"You know what! You slide me your damn key, as if I'm supposed to just figure it out, like-" He trails off, taking in her appearance. "You look... Umm..."

She crosses her arms self consciously. "I was about to go to bed."

She's wearing an oversized Bartlet for America shirt, American flag boxers, and warm socks. She'd wiped her makeup off for the day and pulled her hair up. "You look hilarious."

"Okay, jerk, if you're just going to-"

"We haven't given you any Santos swag yet?" He gestures to her shirt.

"You have. I just like this better."

"Can't say I blame you." He continues to stare at her. She isn't sure whether to feel flattered or embarassed. "Aren't those my underwear?"

"What? No."

"Yes they are. Sam gave those to me as a gag gift."

"Maybe Sam gave us the same present."

"Sam gave you men's underwear?"

"Maybe."

"You stole them."

"Well, I liked them, and you never wore them, so... I repossessed them. For the greater good."

"When did you have time to steal my clothing?"

"Probably one of the times that I snuck into your apartment late at night to root through your drawers and watch you sleep." She dead pans. "Never should've given me that key."

"Okay, seriously."

"I don't know. I slept over sometimes during your recovery, and I needed something to sleep in, so..."

"Right." He recalls. "Hey, how'd you know I never wore them?"

"I'm tuned to you?"

"You're such a creep."

"They were in the back of drawer, collecting dust, Josh. They needed love."

"I'm not going to make a suggestive joke about what you said, because it's too easy."

"Good for you."

"Thanks."

"So, did you just come here to make fun of me, or...?"

"No. I also came to yell at you a little."

"Fantastic."

"You slid me the damn key."

"Yes. I did."

"Why?"

She splutters. "Why do you think?"

"What is this? A campaign fling?"

"I don't know."

"Well. That makes two of us."

She bites her lip. "You didn't pick up the key."

"I was going to."

"What stopped you?"

"I wasn't fast enough. I was dumbfounded. By your incredibly confusing gesture."

"I really thought it was pretty straightforward."

"It wasn't! For one, what do I even do with the key? Do I just let myself in? That's creepy."

"...I hadn't really considered that."

"You really didn't think this one through."

"What would you have done, then? If you did get to the key in time?"

"Probably just come up here, knock, and then make fun of you and yell at you a little."

"So, exactly what you're doing now."

"Yeah."

"Why did you come up here?"

"I just told you, to-"

"Really. Why did you come up here? What did you want?"

He seems taken aback by the question. "I don't know."

"Great. That helps clear things up."

"I just wanted to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About this. About us."

"And what did you want to say?"

"You said that it was bound to happen sometime."

She looks down at the floor. She'd been replaying that moment over and over in her head all day, regretting what she'd said as soon as it left her mouth. "I did."

"What did you mean?"

"I meant that..."

"Did you mean that I was bound to kiss you sometime? Because that's probably accurate. But did you just mean the kiss? Or was something else bound to happen sometime?"

"You do realize I have as poor a grasp on this situation as you do, right?"

"But you at least seemed to have a plan. You gave me the key."

"It was just a key! It wasn't a fully formulated plan, okay?"

"What was bound to happen sometime?" He persists. He'd been replaying that moment in his head all day, too. "A campaign fling?"

"No."

"Good. Because if I just wanted to have a campaign fling with you, I would've screwed you eight years ago, you realize that, right?"

Her jaw drops. She stumbles to find a response. "Please don't use the word 'screwed'."

"Why not? That's what you gave me the key for, right?"

"Will you lay off of the key already?"

"No."

She stares at him, seeking an honest answer. "Eight years?"

"Eight years."

"Why hasn't anything happened?"

"Because you're not Mandy, Donna. You're not someone I can fuck and then get fired. You're not someone I can just walk away from."

"'Fuck' really isn't a better verb."

"Donna-"

"Why'd you kiss me? If you don't want anything to happen, if you've been avoiding it for eight years-"

"What the hell do I have to lose?" He interrupts. "I lost you anyway. Even though nothing happened between us. I lost you anyway."

"You didn't lose me."

"Yes, I did."

"Well, I'm here now." She says daringly. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Well." He meets her eyes, a nervous smile forming. "I was kind of hoping to kiss you again."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I don't want you for a campaign fling, Josh."

"Good." He's slowly closing the distance between them.

"And that kiss, earlier?"

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't half bad." She grins, face an inch from his.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well I think we can do better."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

It's fifteen minutes later, and they're on the bed, when he pulls back. "That's it. I'm ending it here."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not going to sleep with you."

"You're not?"

"No."

"Then get your hand out of my shirt, you pervert."

Smiling, he does as asked and sits up on the edge of the bed. "I meant, I'm not going to sleep with you yet."

"Why not?"

"Because this isn't a fling. We've gotta at least go on a date first."

"So, what, you're just going to leave me here?"

"What? No. Get up."

"What?"

"Get up. We're going out."

"Right now?"

"Well, yeah."

"Josh, no. It's eleven at night."

"Hotel bar is still open."

"Look at me."

"You look great."

"Josh, I can't."

"Why? Is the thought of me making you all weak in the knees?"

She kicks him.

"If so, I'll carry you."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"Don't think you can, old man."

"Okay, that's it." Grinning madly, he pulls her toward him on the bed and stands, carrying her toward the door.

"Put me down! There are people out there!"

He struggles to open the door, but when he does, it's to an empty hallway. "See? Nobody here."

"I'm serious. Put me down."

Ignoring her, he heads for the elevator. "You baited me."

"What if we run into the Congressman?"

"I think he'll be pleased that I'm taking a night off."

He steps into the elevator, and once inside, uses her hip to press the lobby button.

"Did you just use my body to push the elevator button?"

"Okay, princess, I'm carrying you. You'd think you could be a little nicer to me."

Admitting defeat, she wraps her arms around his neck. "You are going to put me down before we get to the lobby, right?"

"Probably."

Before he can do so, the doors open on the third floor to reveal a shell-shocked Bram. Upon seeing him, their expressions are equally deer-in-the-headlights. He takes his time in examining the sight of his tyrannical boss, holding up their relatively new spokesperson, who was clad in what were obviously her pajamas.

Eventually, Josh coughs. "Hey, Bram."

Bram takes this as a sign that he can in fact get on the elevator, and slips inside just before the doors close. "Umm. Hi."

There has never been a more uncomfortable ten seconds in any of their three lives. Bram tires valiantly to put them all out of their misery, dutifully avoiding eye contact with his boss and the now brightly blushing Donna Moss. "I was just, uhh. Looking for Otto. Wasn't in his room."

"Right."

Bram shifts uncomfortably before finally deciding to tackle the situation head on. "So, should I ask about what's happening, or-"

"Don't."

"Right. Yes sir."

Donna, though still bright red, giggles. "It's cute how they're all so afraid of you."

"Shut up. You're undermining my authority." But he can't help smiling as he says it. She kisses his cheek, and before the elevator opens, he's blushing too.

Bolstered by Donna's comment, Bram looks at them as they step off the elevator. Josh sets Donna on her feet, and she grabs his hand. "So, you two are the newest campaign fling?"

"Oh, no." Josh grins over his shoulder as they head for the hotel bar. "We're dating."

Completely floored, Bram stands stock still as Donna waves at him and disappears around the corner. When he finally regains the use of his limbs, he stumbles out on to the patio where the remaining staffers are gathered.

"You guys. I have a development."

"What?" They all look up at him, ready for the latest polling.

"I think Josh is gonna get laid."

"Thank God! It's about damn time."

"I'll drink to that."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"I have a question for you."

"Okay, shoot."

"And I want you to be honest with me." She says seriously, leveling her gaze at him over a basket of popcorn shrimp.

"Okay. What is it?"

"Do you like my new haircut?"

He stares at her from the other side of the booth. "You're kidding. That's your serious question?"

"Yes."

"Okay. You want me to be totally honest?"

"One hundred percent."

"I hate it."

"I knew it!"

"It's not that it looks bad, it just... Doesn't look like you."

"I was trying something new. I wanted to look professional, and edgy."

"I guess it's those things. But it's not you."

"Why not?"

"I barely recognized you when I saw it, you looked so... Polished. So DC."

"I live in DC, Josh."

"Yeah, but you're not one of the DC people. You're a real person. And I liked that about you."

"I wanted to be taken seriously."

"People take you seriously."

She rolls her eyes. "The Bambi eyed blonde from Wisconsin? Nobody took her seriously."

"I did."

"You know what I mean."

"All I'm saying is, you've never let it change you. Politics, DC. The game. You weren't one of those women. You were still yourself. And people respected you for that. Or at least, I did. You were real. And you cared."

"I still do."

"I know you do. But I think you changed yourself. You tried not to let people know so much."

"You used to sleep with a lot of those women, you know. The shiny DC women."

"Yeah, but I didn't take many of them on dates at eleven pm. Or carry them to the elevator."

"So, what? I'm supposed to stay the same person because that's the way you like me?"

"No. But I think you liked that person too."

"You're just miffed because you're intimidated by me now."

"Says the woman wearing my underwear, in a bar."

"Josh."

"You're right. It freaked me out a little. The new you."

"I'm still the same person."

"I know."

"Can I tell you something?"

"What?"

"I hate my haircut too."

He looks at her incredulously. "Then what the hell did you put me through that for?"

She shrugs. "For fun."

"You know, I really like you."

"I'm glad."

"Even though you're kind of weird."

"That's generous of you."

"You have so many qualities that are undervalued in a woman. Like the amount of popcorn shrimp you're able to put down, knowing you're about to have sex."

"You're the one that bought the shrimp!"

"And I'm glad to see you're enjoying them."

"I can hold down the shrimp, okay?"

"What if you get, ya know, motion sickness?"

"Motion sickness?" She repeats.

"Yeah."

She breaks down in laughter. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but that's ridiculous."

"I'm just looking out for you."

"Thank you. That's sweet."

"I don't want anything to distract from the experience."

"The experience?"

"Yeah."

"I'd be careful about the buildup, there."

"I don't really think that's necessary."

She tilts her head thoughtfully. "Now that I think of it, you do have a pretty good return rate."

"Thank you."

"Still."

"A good return rate, unlike some people."

She narrows her eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that, you know. You've been on a lot of dates. First dates that don't turn into second dates."

"Are you saying that I put out on the first date?"

"Aren't you about to put out on our first date?"

"Not the way you're headed."

"Those guys did seem very hit it and quit it."

"You're a jerk."

"I'm just sayin'-"

"It's better than sleeping with someone I've never been on a date with."

"Was that directed at me?"

"Isn't that your signature move?"

"I have a lot of signature moves, which you could find out about tonight, if you're nice to me."

"You're pretty hit it and quit yourself, you know."

"Not this time. You're not getting rid of me."

"If those guys did hit it and quit it, anyway, it's not because I was bad. It's because I was so great they were intimidated."

"Right, that's it."

"It is."

"Actually, I think it's just because those guys were jerks, Donna."

"Maybe."

"And they were missing out."

She smiles softly. "Damn it."

"What?"

"You've won me back over."

"Don't I always?"

"Don't push it."

He gazes at her across the table, eyes filled with warmth. "I'm reconsidering this whole date thing."

"Why?"

"Cute in theory. But now I just want to take you upstairs."

"That's really too bad. Because I intend to finish my drink, and I intend to finish these shrimp."

"God help me."

"Hey, come over here." She shifts to the inside of the booth, and pats the seat beside her. Curious, he obliges. She takes his hand and intertwines their fingers. "This whole date thing? Pretty cute."

"I'm glad you're pleased."

She kisses him. She kisses him, and he forgets about everything. He forgets about Otto standing at the bar, watching them surreptitiously, he forgets about his early meeting, he forgets that they're tied nationally and he forgets where he is.

"You know what you taste like?"

"If you say popcorn shrimp, so help me god, you're taking a cold shower tonight."

"...Nevermind."

"You said you missed me every day."

"What?"

"When I was applying for a job. You told me you missed me every day."

"Oh. Yeah, well. I did."

"I missed you every day, too."

"You did?"

"Yeah."

"That's... Thanks."

"I don't want to have to miss you again."

"You won't."

"This is the part where I start singing an off-key rendition of 'Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow'."

"I never said that I loved you."

"I assumed."

"You know what they say about assuming."

"Will you still love me tomorrow?"

"Given that I've loved you every day for years now, I think there's a statistically good chance that I will."

"Alright. Let's go upstairs."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want me to carry you?"

"I really do."

"You've got perfectly good legs. Nice legs, actually."

"Yeah, but I'm so full from the shrimp."

"You're kidding."

"I am. Mostly."

"Fine. I'll carry you."

"I love you."

"You're very spoiled."

"I know."

"I love you, too."

"I know."

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXXxxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **I told you it was adorable.**

 **I feel like people always write their reconciliation as charged and angsty (myself included), so I wanted to try something new.**

 **I've got a couple other chapters planned for this, so stay tuned! And tell me what you think :) Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Guys, this one is so sad. I'm sorry. I wish I had something to cheer you up this Hump Day. I've got a few more chapters in the works: another moderately sad one, and two happy ones. I'll try to finish one of the happy ones first, so I don't overload you :)**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys like this. Or maybe not "like"... I don't know.**

 **** _Warning: Major character death_**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

After the funeral, the staff never quite found their rhythm again. CJ watched them all shrink away from each other, in a time when perhaps they needed their companionship the most. It was terrible. Sam rarely left his office, and from what she could see of the circles under his eyes, rarely slept either. Toby grieved as if for a younger brother, and though he retained his normal stoicism, there was nothing behind it. No sparkle in his eyes, no warmth in his voice, no breaks for laughter. Leo and the President had both lost a son - perhaps theirs was the only connection that didn't fray after Roslyn.

Charlie's guilt was physically painful to watch.

The halls were quiet, then. Really, it was a thing to behold. Halls once boisterous and chaotic were silent and staid, like a memorial. It just didn't feel right, laughing or goofing off without him there to join in. It didn't feel right to raise their voices, without him across the hall to shout back obnoxiously.

CJ wasn't taking it well herself. It was hard for her, being in the public eye, because in the aftermath of the shooting, she had to project a strength that she didn't feel. She had to project faith in an administration that had lost its heart. They all felt robbed, and she was no exception. She tried not to cry in front of the other staffers - she had an absurd fear of reminding them of what had happened. But then, it was obvious none of them had forgotten.

Donna was hit the hardest, of course.

CJ tried to be strong for the poor girl, but it seemed nothing could help her. What they had ignored for far too long, what CJ had only ever thought of as an impending press disaster, suddenly came crashing down around them in sharp relief: She was in love with him.

She must've cried for hours after she'd heard. First, it was slow, silent tears, but then it was gut wrenching sobs. They'd taken turns, there in the waiting room, wrapping her in their arms. Even Toby had. Surprisingly, he was the one who seemed to have the best luck in consoling her.

CJ, afraid for her ability to drive herself home, offered to let her stay the night at her place. She could use the company, anyway. They spent the night together on her King bed, without the will to crawl under the covers or turn off the lights, and she could hear her choking on tears until well into the morning.

For the next few weeks, she was a zombie. She didn't cry anymore, not even at the funeral. But she didn't smile, either. She didn't smile, or laugh, or eat or drink to any of their knowledge. CJ occasionally coaxed her into a cup of water or a few bites of a pastry, but other than that, they were certain she was wasting away.

It was maybe six weeks later that she announced she was leaving. None of them could blame her; every time she turned a corner in that city, she was reminded of him. They all were. She told them she was going back to Wisconsin, to her family, and that perhaps she'd take another stab at getting her degree.

"You sure you'll be okay?" CJ had asked, helping her load the last of her things into her car.

"I'll be fine." Donna assured her, without conviction. "I'll call you when I get there."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"Don't be a stranger, okay? Call me, email me. Stop by when you can."

"Back at you." She replied, with the bare ghost of a smile. "Let me know if you're ever in Wisconsin." She looked away at that moment, almost guiltily. CJ thought it might be shame over the way she was leaving.

"I'll miss you." CJ said earnestly.

"I'll miss you too."

And then they'd said their goodbyes (she and Sam, who was also helping with the move-out). They shared hugs and then she was on her way. CJ and Sam stood at the curb of her former apartment building, arms linked, wishing they could've helped her more.

CJ tried to stay in touch with her, she really did. But after business as usual had resumed (well, not as usual), it grew harder. They were swamped until they found Josh's replacement, and even after that they soon became sucked into midterms, and then the election. She occasionally called, or shot her an email, but even that trailed off after a while.

Sometimes she'd think of her when she passed through the bullpen, of her sunny smile and sharp wit. She'd make a mental note to call her. But, inevitably, it would be buried under hundreds of other mental notes.

The only reason she ever saw her again was complete chance. Or fate, maybe. It was more than five years after Roslyn, in the winter of 2005, when she next saw Donna Moss.

She was on the Metro. Which was unusual, because CJ rarely took the Metro. But that week her car was in the shop - something about the frost doing something to the old engine - and she'd had to find a new mode of commute. She was returning to work from some early Christmas shopping, at around three in the afternoon, when she heard a familiar voice drifting toward her from the other end of the car. She didn't recognize it at first, but when she finally placed it, her head snapped up abruptly.

She spotted her toward the end of the car, chatting happily to a small girl tucked beside her, who was clutching a book. She looked different - older, sure, but better than the last time she'd seen her. She didn't look lost, anymore. She looked content, and if she was living in DC now, she'd certainly been getting more sleep than any of the other Metro regulars surrounding her. Her familiar blonde hair, held down by a bright knit cap, was shorter, falling only halfway down her neck.

Her blue eyes had regained that sparkle they'd lost after Roslyn.

After taking a few moments to process this surprise, CJ stands and manages to shuffle over to her, wedging herself between other passengers and apologizing intermittently.

"I can only read the book to you if you let go of it. I know the train's moving very fast, but I promise I won't drop it." She hears her murmur to the little girl once she nears them. She presumes that the girl is perhaps a niece, or a friend's daughter.

"Donna!" She calls, and her once close friend looks up at her in surprise. Once she recognizes her, her face melts into a smile.

"CJ!"

"Oh my god, it's so great to see you!"

"You too!" She stands eagerly, and gives her a quick embrace before returning to her seat, putting an arm around the shoulders of the little girl, who is watching CJ timidly.

"What brings you to DC?"

"A job interview, actually. In Congressman Lowell's office." She smiles.

"The Connecticut fifth, huh? Interesting. It'd be great to have you in the city again." She says sincerely.

"Yeah, it would be nice to see all the old friends I've missed. I'm not sure I'll take it, but we'll see."

"You got it? That's great."

"Yeah. Since then we've just been using the extra couple days to walk around the city, see the museums and whatnot. She's been having a blast." She inclines her head to the small girl beside her.

CJ decides it time for her to acknowledge the child, hoping the extra few minutes of chatter have given her time to get comfortable. "And who's this?" She asks sweetly, gesturing to the girl.

"This is my daughter."

CJ is taken aback by this statement, but quickly recovers. As she looks down at the young girl, Donna's gaze is a strange mixture of pride and... Guilt? Embarrassment? CJ looks quickly at her left hand, and discerns that the girl was likely conceived out of wedlock. That must be it. Or else, she was simply ashamed that they had grown so far apart that she hadn't been able to tell her that she'd become a mother. "Wow."

"I know." She says in a small voice. CJ gauges the girl's age. Maybe four? She must've gotten pregnant soon after returning home.

CJ plasters on a friendly smile. "And what's your name?" She asks kindly, bending down closer to the girl.

The girl looks at her mother for confirmation. Donna nods encouragingly. "It's okay, you can tell her."

The girl looks down shyly. "Lily." She mumbles.

"It's nice to meet you, Lily. That's a pretty name."

The girl was certainly adorable. She was rendered stiff by a large puffy overcoat, and small curls of auburn hair stuck out from under her hat. Her cheeks were flushed, either from the cold or the excitement of talking to a stranger. There was something a little off-putting about her large, warm brown eyes, but on the whole, CJ decides she must have good genes. "Thank you." She manages, trying to curl even further into Donna's side.

"CJ and I are old friends, sweetie. We used to work together."

"Yes. At the White House." CJ adds genially. "That's where the President lives."

The girl's eyes widen considerably.

"Yes." Donna says faintly. "We walked past there this morning, remember?"

The girl doesn't answer, and instead continues to look seriously at CJ. "Did you know my dad?"

CJ furrows her brow in confusion. The poor girl didn't know her father? What a shame. Well, of course CJ didn't know whatever dead beat Donna had hooked up with in her grieving period. But how best should she phrase that? "Um-"

"He worked at the White House too."

Now it's CJ's turn to be floored. Her gaze flicks to Donna, who is beginning to look rather ill. Her lips are pressed tightly together, her eyes shining with anxiety. CJ runs desperately through a list of other possibilities. Had she ever seen Sam and Donna act as anything other than siblings? Had she ever heard Donna mention a one night stand with some anonymous guy from policy?

But no. The answer comes back to her in stunning clarity. There was a reason the girl's eyes were so off-putting. She'd seen them before.

"She's..." CJ breathes, unable to vocalize the crushing reality.

"She's his." Donna confirms softly. She bites her lip nervously, waiting for CJ to say more. When she doesn't, she begins hurriedly, "I'm so sorry, CJ. I meant to tell you, honestly, I did. It only started a few months before... Before..."

"It's okay." She interrupts gently. This revelation adds another dimension to Donna's grieving. CJ looks down at her friend with increased sympathy. She must've had such incredible strength, to raise this girl all on her own, after all that had happened to her. She can't help but ask, "Did he know...?"

Donna shakes her head. "I didn't even know, until after the funeral."

"He never knew." CJ repeats, stunned. She isn't sure whether this makes it less tragic or moreso.

Lily watches them, brow furrowed in confusion. "So... You did know him?"

CJ returns her gaze to the girl, looking up at her with burgeoning hope. Her eyes fill slowly with tears. "Yes. Yes, I knew him quite well." She says thickly.

"Oh." Lily says shortly. Donna pulls her more snugly to her side as CJ wipes at her eyes. A voice comes over the speaker, announcing the next stop, and Donna leans forward.

"Oh. This is our stop." She stands, tugging Lily with her by a hand. The girl tucks her book under her arm, and continues to stare at CJ. "It was good seeing you, CJ." Donna says awkwardly, obviously unhappy with the abrupt end to their conversation.

"Will you be in town tomorrow?" CJ asks suddenly, before she has a fully formulated plan.

"Well... Yes." Donna says hesitantly.

"How would you like to come by the White House? We could give Lily a tour."

"Um-"

"Oh, mom, could we?" Her daughter tugs on her hand.

CJ gives her a watery smile. "You'd like that, Lily? You'd like to see where your mom and dad worked?"

The girl nods profusely.

"Well..." Donna hesitates as the train slows to a stop. She glances down at Lily, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Okay." She relents.

"That's great." CJ says, relieved. She wasn't quite ready to let go of those eyes for a second time.

"I'll call your office to set it up, okay?" She leads Lily toward the door, other passengers stepping back politely for her.

"Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. See you."

When Donna did call that evening, they chatted superficially and set up plans for her and Lily to arrive the next morning. It was obvious she was apprehensive, but her fears weren't vocalized until the end of the call.

"Okay, so I'll see you both-"

"CJ." Donna interrupts desperately, in a near whisper. "Did you tell them who her father is?"

CJ's heart twinges in sympathy for her. She didn't need to ask who "they" were. "Not yet, no. But I was thinking it might be nice."

"You... Were?"

"It would save any embarrassment in case anyone deduced it on their own." CJ says reasonably, before giving her real reason. "And, well... We all lost him, Donna. And the fact there's a part of him still here? I just think it might be something that would mean a lot to some of the people around here. Leo, the President, Toby."

"I guess you're right." She agrees, voice wavering.

"Plus, if everyone knows, the tour could mean more. We could tell stories about him. She could hear about him from people who really loved him."

"That's true." Donna agrees. "I guess... She might give it away anyway, right?" She laughs nervously.

"Yeah." CJ agrees.

"Okay. You can tell them."

"Only if you're comfortable with it."

"I am, I think. I think... It'd be good. To finally have it out there, after all these years."

"I agree." CJ says, relieved.

The staff's reactions range from shock to disbelief, and several obviously struggle with the resurfacing grief. But by the end of the night, each of them has promised CJ that they'll be nothing but cordial and kind to Donna the next day. They all loved her, after all. And beyond that, they wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize meeting that little girl.

They follow through on their promises. Toby is the first to greet them once CJ leads them inside. He gives Donna a stiff hug, before gazing down at the little girl before him. She gazes back with equal contemplation, unafraid of the gruff man. Eventually, Toby's eyes crinkle in a smile.

"Oh my god. Oh my god." He repeats several times, ignoring the lump in his throat. He continues to smile, one of the fullest CJ'd seen on him in years. "She looks like him."

This makes Lily smile, and even Donna relaxes slightly. "My dad?"

"Who else?" He chuckles. "God, there's... There's no protocol for this kind of situation." He laments. Though he'd had children of his own recently, Toby still had trouble interacting with kids who had any sort of vocal capabilities.

Nonetheless, he tries. And damned if he doesn't follow them for the entire tour, looking at that little girl in awe. Not even work could stop him; Will Bailey approaches him at one point, but he shakes him off easily. Will understands - he'd heard mutterings of what was happening today, and it was obvious how much it meant to his boss.

As they walk through the bullpen, Donna struggles to focus on what's happening. CJ is telling her daughter about how her parents used to work here, bickering and bantering and falling in love, and Donna manages to smile wanly. But back here, in this room of so many potent memories, she finds herself overwhelmed. She'd left here because it was too much to face on a daily basis. But now, she feels it once again. The magic crackling in this air.

When she'd left, the space had been reverent, but now it is busy again. She thinks he would've liked that.

She is just remembering his laughter when Toby notices her expression, and intervenes gently. "I heard you graduated this summer, Donna."

She returns to reality, boundlessly grateful for his interruption. "Oh, yes. I did."

"Congratulations."

She smiles, genuinely this time. "Thank you."

"We're all proud of you." He says gruffly. "And... He would've been too."

She doesn't need to ask who. Her throat throbs with potential tears, but she manages a nod, hoping to convey with her eyes how much that means to her. She resumes listening to CJ, who is telling her daughter about how important her father was, especially to the people around here. She watches Lily, her eyes huge with wonder, and tries to focus on the present.

The next familiar face is Leo, who freezes upon seeing them. He manages to hug Donna and kiss her cheek, before craning down to look at Lily over his glasses. "You're..."

"Lily." She says matter-of-factly, though of course he already knows this. He smiles, a warm grandfatherly smile.

"Lily, yes. It's nice to meet you."

"You too." Donna notices how at ease she is meeting all these strangers, as opposed to how she'd behaved on the train yesterday. She's so excited to meet people who'd known her father that it hadn't even occurred to her to be shy.

"I'm Leo." He informs her, his voice barely level.

"Leo." She repeats thoughtfully. "I think I've heard of you."

This widens his smile. "I knew your dad quite well."

"You did?"

"I did." He takes a steadying breath. "He was..."

He can't quite finish the sentence, and is saved by a grand entrance: the President. He clatters into the room, arms wide, and sweeps any awkwardness out with him by way of his easy charm. "Donnatella Moss! How long has it been? It is so wonderful to see you again!"

"And you, sir." She says, a familiar warmth and love filling her chest, as it had upon seeing Toby and Leo. She is now almost full to bursting. He looks so tired these days, she notes. She hugs him, and notices Charlie hovering in the doorway, staring at the ground.

"And this must be Lily!" He says, bending down to look at her. "The little Lyman! How old are you, Lily? Twelve? Thirteen?"

She giggles at the joke, which elicits a smile even from those who find it familiar. "Four-and-a-half!" She says emphatically, the half being very important to her.

"I see. And Donnatella, how could you have kept such a gorgeous girl from us for so long?" He tempers the more serious implications of this question with a teasing smile. Lily giggles again, flattered. "Come along, Lily, let me show you my office."

He bends and takes her hand, and she skips after him happily, leaving the other adults in the room to settle into an easier silence. Leo takes the moment to wipe at his eyes with his ever-present handkerchief, for once coming in handy. As they file slowly in the door to the Oval Office, Donna stops Charlie with a hand on his arm.

"Charlie." She smiles softly. "It's so good to see you."

"You too." He manages, not looking at her. His voice is choked. She decides not to push it.

The President and Lily are sitting comfortably on one of the couches - he is beginning some long winded historical anecdote, and she is gazing up at him with rapt attention. This attention soon begins to wander. He notices, and pauses with a smile. "You know, Lily, I used to bore your father to death with stories just like this, too."

"Really?"

"Really. He wasn't one for sitting still."

"Neither am I!" She says proudly. Her mother and the staffers laugh.

"I hear that you're thinking about moving here, Lily."

She fiddles with the upholstery on the sofa. "Maybe."

"I think that would be wonderful."

"Uhn." She says vaguely.

"I know it would be a big change."

"I'd miss grandma." She tells him.

He smiles, glad she was close to her mother's family. "I understand. I would love it if my grandchildren lived near me, I'd never let them leave. Do you like Wisconsin?"

Lily furrows her brow, and Donna opens her mouth, fumbling for words. "Um, she's not-"

"What's Wis... Wisc..."

"Wisconsin." The President supplies kindly, smiling bemusedly. "Isn't that where you live?"

"No." Lily says firmly. "I live in Con-net-ki-tuck."

"You live in Connecticut?"

"Yes."

As most of the staff had understood that Donna moved back home to be with her family, it's not surprising that they're all staring at her. Heat rising in her face, she puts her hand on CJ's elbow and leans in close to her ear. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

CJ nods and follows her out of the room into Leo's office. They leave Lily with the President, who'd tactfully switched to asking her if she was excited about Kindergarten.

They stand for a moment, staring at each other. CJ waits patiently for her to explain.

"So, um. I live in Connecticut." Donna says lamely.

"I heard." CJ replies.

"I just, um..."

"I thought you went to be with family."

"I did. Sort of." She mumbles. "I just... Wasn't sure how my family would react. I didn't think they'd understand, and that they would've judged him without ever knowing him."

"Okay." CJ says slowly. She could understand that - she'd already started to suspect that part of the reason she'd left DC was to escape the judgment of those who'd known him.

"And I realized... That there was one person who was worse off than I was. Someone who really needed family, but didn't have any."

CJ starts to understand where she's going with this.

"She'd lost her daughter, and her husband, and finally her son. She didn't have any grandchildren, at least none that she was aware of yet. And I knew... She would be the one person to love my daughter, with no reservations. With no judgment." She explains, her eyes wide and seeking CJ's reaction.

"His mother." CJ affirms softly. "You've been living with his mother."

She nods apprehensively. "Ruth. Yes. For five years."

"Wow."

"I know." She pauses. "I'm only thinking of moving now because Ruth is thinking about moving to Florida. The winters are getting hard for her, you know." She says, flustered.

"And if I'd ever been in Wisconsin, and called for a visit..."

"You never did." Donna points out, and guilt constricts CJ's chest. She was right.

"Well, I... I guess I understand."

Donna bites her lower lip. "I'm sorry. I should've told you."

"There are a lot of things I wish you'd told me."

"I know, and I-"

"Just because I would've wanted to help you. It must've been terrible to go through that alone." CJ tells her, trying to ease some of her guilt.

"I wasn't alone, CJ."

"Right. Ruth."

"Well, yes, her." She acknowledges. Her eyes shine. "But... Not just her. I was never alone. Those nine months, which should've been the hardest..." She folds her arms tightly around herself, one hand resting on her stomach. "I was never alone. I had Lily."

CJ can't help a smile. "That must've helped."

"It did. It felt like I still had a piece of him, you know?"

"Yeah."

"A piece I'm now realizing... I probably shouldn't have kept to myself."

CJ waves a hand. "It's okay, Donna. You needed her more than any of us did. And by the looks of things, you've done a great job."

Donna beams with pride. "Thank you."

They're interrupted by a knock at the door, and Charlie leans around it. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"

"No, that's okay."

"I was just hoping to... Talk, to Donna." He says softly, gaze on the carpet.

"Sure thing." CJ leaves, giving Donna's shoulders a squeeze on her way out.

She leaves a deep silence in her wake. Donna attempts to lighten it with a cheerful smile. "So, Charlie, what did you want to-"

"Donna, I am so, so sorry." He blurts, raising pleading eyes to hers. His voice is steeped in grief and guilt. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am."

Donna creases her brow, taking a step closer to him. "Charlie, what are you-"

"That little girl doesn't have a father." Charlie elaborates, gaze dropping again. "And it's my fault."

Donna opens her mouth, appalled. She takes another step toward him and places her hand on his arm. "Charlie... You can't possibly think that's true."

He clenches his jaw. "If Zoey and I hadn't-"

"No." She says adamantly. "Charlie, no. Listen to me. It is no one's fault but the three juvenile, hateful racists who fired the shots."

"They were aiming for me."

"Yes, they were."

"They were aiming for me, and they killed him."

"They did." She acknowledges. She pulls him into a hug, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "But, Charlie. You have no idea how glad I am - how glad so many people are - that you're still here."

He exhales deeply. "Thank you for saying that."

"He never would've wanted you to blame yourself, Charlie. He thought of you like a younger brother, you know that."

Charlie swallows hard, attempting to steady himself. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"And he really loved you, you know that, right?"

She smiles and pulls back, leaving her hands on his shoulders. "I do, Charlie. Thank you."

"And he would've loved Lily."

"I like to think so, too."

"You must, um..." He clears his throat. "You must really miss him."

She blinks rapidly, and gives him a watery smile. "I do, Charlie. I really do."

"That must be hard."

She gives him another smile, and moves past him to crack open the door to the oval. She inclines her head at the view: the President and his senior staff fawning over her daughter. Lily fits in the scene perfectly, just as her mother and father once had.

"I think it's going to get a little easier, soon." She whispers conspiratorially.

"You do?"

"I do." She says contentedly. "Now that we're with family."

"You're moving back?"

"How could I not? She belongs here."

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **So, this may be too sad for you guys, but this has given me a story idea. I would love to write about Ruth and Donna - their relationship and the five years they spent together. I think it could make for a great story about their shared grief and bonding. What do you guys think? Would any of you read it, or is the idea too damn depressing?**

 **Anyway, I'm sorry I didn't have anything more uplifting! I love you all, and thanks for reading. Hope the rest of your week is good!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Happy New Year! As your present, here's a cute little piece about our favorite gang getting drunk and getting kissed (some of 'em). Hope you enjoy it :)**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"I'm afraid I have no one to kiss at midnight this year."

"Nobody cares, Sam."

"I care, Josh."

"I'll kiss you, Sam."

"Don't let her, Sam. She's devious."

CJ looks up innocently. "Who? Me?"

"Yes! You!"

"Josh, what have I ever done to hurt you?"

"Last New Year's Eve."

"What did I do?"

"You don't remember?"

"I was very drunk."

"Of course. That explains why you bit me."

"I bit you?"

"Yes! You leaned in, I thought it would be a normal kiss on the cheek or something, and you _bit_ me."

"Oh yeah!"

"Now she remembers."

"I was drunk, after all. And I believe I was dared."

"By who?"

"Donnatella Moss, who else?"

"Of course. Say, where is Donna?" He looks around, glad to finally have an excuse to do so. When he thought of New Year's, he always had vague visions of a champagne flavored kiss, his hands in blonde hair, and a moment too perfect for propriety to stop them. Over the past few years, the vision still had not come to fruition.

"Enjoying herself for once, hopefully." CJ says dismissively. "Anyway, I'll be gentle, Samuel."

"Hm. Maybe I'll take you up on that."

"Didn't you promise to kiss Toby this year?"

"Oh, damn! I suppose you could form some sort of queue."

"Maybe I should look at my other options."

"Don't look at me."

"Nobody was, Josh."

"Yeah, I'm making it up to Toby for two years ago."

"What happened two years ago?"

"I told him I'd kiss him, then kissed someone else."

"Told you she was devious. Who?"

"Donnatella Moss, who else?"

" _What_?"

"You don't remember this?"

Josh recovers from having spilled his drink, still gaping. "No."

"Right, well, she was having trouble finding anyone, because every guy at the party seemed afraid that they'd find themselves pulled off of her mid-kiss by Josh."

Josh tries not to look self-satisfied with this information.

"So, we had a very 'screw men' moment. It was mostly on the cheek, you guys can quit staring at me."

"How did I miss that?" Josh marvels.

"That was the year of the massive party, remember? The semi-formal one? There were a lot of people there."

"Still."

"Oh, I remember! You spent the night trying to be as far away from Congressman Lowell's wife as possible."

"Oh yeah."

"Why?" Sam inquires.

"I didn't like the way she was looking at me."

"She had a thing for you, as I recall."

"Yeah. And I wasn't about to single-handedly lose our best man on the Ops committee because his wife had a few too many gin and tonics."

"Good man, Josh."

"I still can't believe I missed out on you and Donna."

"Yes, it was a sight for the ages." CJ shrugs modestly.

"Seriously, where is she?"

Sam and CJ rolls their eyes at one another, but finally cast their gazes around in hopes of getting him to shut up. "Over there, talking to the new guy in legislative affairs."

"Actually, she looks pretty uncomfortable. Someone should rescue her."

"I'll do it." Josh volunteers immediately, to no one's surprise.

Donna had actually been hoping that this would happen. The guy, Dave or something, had seemed nice enough at first, but had quickly begun to grate on her. She passed the time drinking and gazing over his shoulder to make sure no pesky wives of Congressmen or other problematic admirers were hanging around her boss.

But by the time Deven or something leaned in to put a hand on her knee and say "Looks like I've positioned myself pretty well for the ball drop, wouldn't you say?" She started seriously looking for escape routes.

Luckily, Josh chose that moment to saunter over, tipsy in a minor way that only she would notice.

"Hello, Donnatella."

"Joshua."

"You have got to tell me about this alleged kiss between you and CJ."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "What?"

He glances at her companion. "I mean, I didn't know she swung that way. Did you?"

Duncan or something gapes at him. "I, um, have to get a drink."

"See ya." He grins at her. "You're welcome."

She tries and fails to look mad. "He was a nice guy, Josh."

"Yeah, sure. Come join us." He gestures with his drink to Sam and CJ, who had been joined by Charlie. He offers her a hand off the couch, which she gladly accepts. "That's some dress, by the way."

"Thank you." She doesn't let go of his hand.

"It's okay Sam, I don't have anyone to kiss either." Charlie is saying as they rejoin the group.

"Oh hey I forgot about that, you're Zoeyless this year."

Charlie gives him a glare. "Thanks for the reminder."

"I'll kiss you!" CJ announces charitably, rapidly veering from tipsy territory into drunk.

"CJ, now you're seriously forming a queue."

"And didn't you bite Josh last year? I'm not sure how I feel about that." Charlie says.

"I'll kiss you, Charlie." Donna offers easily.

"Yeah, because I've always wanted to know how hard Josh can hit."

"He won't hit you!" She defends. She notices she's still holding onto his hand, and drops it. "And besides, I think you could take him."

"Hey!" Josh protests. He relocates his hand to the small of her back.

"I know I could take him."

"Donna, what about us? We had a good thing going."

"CJ, no. You're already in too high demand."

"You're right. Say, where is Toby?"

"You'd better find him, it's five minutes to go."

"You know, I saw Danny knocking around here somewhere."

"So?"

"So, wouldn't you have him join your queue?"

CJ snorts, spilling a little of her drink. "As if. Fish boy and I are history."

"Sure." Sam humors her.

"Anyway, I'm juggling too many men for that!"

"And women." Donna adds.

"Of course. Say, who was that guy you were with?"

"Dave, from legislative affairs."

"You mean Drew?"

"Sure."

"He's cute."

"Sure. But he found out about us, thanks to Josh, and now he thinks I'm gay."

"It was only fair he knew."

"You're right."

"Champagne?"

"Toby!"

"You only brought champagne for her? Inconsiderate, man."

"I wasn't aware I was kissing any of the rest of you this evening."

"I wouldn't be so sure you're kissing CJ, either. There's a line to get to her."

"A queue."

"Ah. Well, I wasn't too invested in it."

"Hey! I should pour this champagne on you, you know."

"Shouldn't we all have champagne? For the toast?"

"I'll get it. Four more, right?"

"Be back in time for our kiss, Sam! You've moved up in the queue."

"You know, I'm sure I could find some better people to start the year off with."

"That's hurtful, Charlie."

"Do you guys have any New Year's resolutions?" Donna inquires, refocusing them.

"I'm trying to average thirty-five hours of sleep per week this year." CJ tells them.

"That's lofty." Toby tells her. "I'm leaving politics behind this year."

"You say that every year, Toby."

"And I mean it, every year."

"I'm getting Zoey back this year."

"You're not drunk enough yet, Charlie."

"I want a new job." Donna announces.

Josh looks greatly affronted by this. "I'm hurt."

"I've been an assistant for too long. I need more."

"Your days will become significantly less interesting." Josh tells her.

"Hm. I guess you're right." She leans into his shoulder. "You could still show up drunk at my apartment, just to keep things lively for me."

"He couldn't stop doing that if he tried."

"Whatever." He takes a sip of his drink. "Maybe my resolution was to get a new assistant."

"Sure."

"Wait, no. My resolution is to not be almost fired this year."

"Josh, you can't be serious."

"I am!"

"Okay, so you just have to avoid briefing the press-"

"-And going on television-"

"-And having mental breakdowns-"

"-And threatening people."

"...I give it up."

"Here you go, everybody. I only spilled about half of it on my way back, I'm very proud."

"Thanks, Sam."

"You're sweet."

"You could thank me with a kiss, to clear up CJ's queue."

"I would, but I'm trying to help Josh with his New Year's Resolution not to threaten people."

"Yikes, that's shouldn't last long."

"Nobody has any faith in me."

"Hey! Twenty seconds!"

"Come watch the ball drop with me." Donna says softly, so that only Josh can hear. She grabs his hand and pulls him with her toward the TV.

"Form a line, guys."

" _Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!_ Happy New Year!"

"Agh! She bit me!"

"Sorry, Samshine. It's a tradition now. Where's the rest of my queue?"

"You know, I'm good."

"Me too."

"You guys. I thought you were here for me."

"I think one's enough for you, CJ."

"Hmph. Hey, where did Josh and Donna go?"

They all gaze about, mildly dizzy. Charlie finds them first, and can't contain a chuckle. "See that armchair over there?"

"Where? By the - _Oh_."

"Woah. At least somebody's starting off the New Year with a bang."

"It's about damn time."

"CJ, shouldn't you be doing your press secretary duties right now?"

"It's the New Year, mi amor."

"I wasn't aware your contract with the White House expired at midnight."

"Ugh. I'll give them until she gets to his second button, then I'll make 'em get a room."

"Good of you."

"I see he doesn't seem to mind it when _she_ bites him."

"Oh god."

"My kiss is looking astoundingly gentle now, isn't it?"

"That's your cue, CJ."

"You're right. Damn, she got there fast. Happy New Year, everybody!"

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **I'll echo that one more time: Happy New Year, my loves!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey all, happy weekend! I hope the week has treated you okay. I've got a fun little Portland Trip AU for you here, correcting the disgrace that was the end to that episode. Josh demeans Donna, forces her to come back to work only to sit around and do nothing, and then we're all just supposed to forgive him because he tells her she looks nice?**

 **Hell. No.**

 **Let's call him out for his actions, why don't we? :)**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"Todd! I'm so sorry I'm late. There was a bit of a... Hold up, at work." Donna says, vastly understating things.

Her date smiles at her considerately. "That's okay, I understand. You're an important girl."

"Mm." She smiles half-heartedly. _You certainly wouldn't know it, the way I was treated tonight._ Thinking about it, she's still seething.

 _Your pathetic need to be coupled up will forever drown out any small sense of self worth you may have._

She tries valiantly to put all thoughts of work, and particularly her boss, out of mind as she sits down across from Todd in the low-lit, perfectly romantic restaurant. It is a wonderful venue, and she is determined to have a wonderful evening, no matter what the time constraints are (or what her current mood is).

"Are you okay?" Todd asks her considerately as she stares at her menu, not reading a word. "You seem a bit preoccupied, there."

"I do?" She asks blankly. She realizes they've been sitting in silence for a good minute now, which does not usually bode well on a first date. She sighs. "I'm sorry, Todd. It's just that something happened at work right before I left, and I can't..." She trails off.

"You can't what?"

She isn't going to talk about him. He doesn't deserve it. "You know what? It's nothing. Forget it. I am totally, one hundred percent over it."

"Oh... Kay." He smiles bravely.

She notices that he isn't quite as attractive as she remembers, now that she's totally sober. She picks up her napkin and places it in her lap with a flourish. "I need a drink."

"Bad day at the office?" He surmises.

"Like you wouldn't believe." She snorts. The waitress arrives at their table, and she orders a whiskey sour.

Once she leaves, Todd decides to continue with this topic, not knowing that by doing so he's sealing the fate of his evening. "What happened?"

"My boss. He's a tyrant. A jerk. A miscreant." She says before she can help herself.

And with that, the floodgates have opened.

Todd is taken aback by the uncloaked venom in her voice. "He is?"

"I mean, how dare he?" She mutters, mostly to herself. "How dare he, of all people, comment on my personal life? He doesn't have one! As if that's my fault!"

Todd furrows his brow. Their drinks arrive, and his date immediately takes a large swig of hers. He notices a heated look about her, and feels a distinct sense of dread about the outcome of this evening. "He commented on your personal life?"

"Yes. I mean, God, when isn't he getting in some snide remark? But tonight, oh no, he couldn't stop himself there, he just had to take it one step further." Perhaps noticing the terrified look on Todd's face, she tries to regain her earlier composure. She isn't about to give Josh the satisfaction of ruining her evening, after all. "I'm sorry. You probably don't need to or care to listen to me ramble about this. Let's talk about something else."

"If you insist."

"I do. What are you thinking of ordering?" She says determinedly.

Todd picks up his menu for the first time, feeling slightly amused. Watching her rave had been a bit frightening at first, but watching her try to suppress whatever she is feeling is downright funny. She is so obviously failing. "Really, it's okay if you want to vent."

"No, that's okay." She bites her lip. She hangs on for another few seconds before predictably breaking. "On second thought, maybe you could help me decipher this."

Todd grins. "Okay. Shoot."

"Alright, so I'm getting ready to go out this evening, and I'm wearing, you know, this." She gestures down at her attire.

"You look fantastic, by the way."

"Thank you." She says dismissively. She puts down her menu, indicating that this story may take a while. "And my boss tells me I've only got an hour out, because he's got a meeting with some Congressman that I have to be back for. Which, by the way, I'm not sure I do. Far more important people than he let their assistants off for the night if they've only got one meeting."

"Right." She hadn't mentioned she only had an hour. _Well, I guess I know now._

"But that wasn't the worst of it!" She leans forward in agitation. "I told him that tonight was important to me, and he goes off on some tangent about how I have terrible taste in men, and my desire to be 'coupled up' is pathetic and drowns out my sense of self worth." She leans back and folds her arms, seething.

"That's... Wow."

She snorts. "Wow is right, Todd."

"Does he do this often?"

"Tell me I'm pathetic? No, but I guess he's been saving that one up for a while..." She mutters mutinously.

"No, I mean making you work when you have plans. Ruining your dates. Keeping you there beyond reasonable expectations."

"Yes! All the time! I spend every waking moment with the guy, and when I finally get the chance to go out and have some time for myself, something just happens to pop up. And always when I have a date, too. He wants me to be a spinster, I'm sure of it. That way he'll have a monopoly on my time."

"I wouldn't be so sure that's it." Todd says knowingly, hiding a smile as he takes a sip from his drink. He can't believe she's so oblivious. Todd doesn't even know the guy, and he can see right through him.

She continues as though she hasn't heard him. "Like that time I had a guy over at my apartment - for once! - and he shows up drunk. I mean, he's always showing up drunk at my apartment, but that night of all nights..." She takes another large swig from her drink. When she sets it down, her eyes refocus on the man across from her. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Todd doesn't bother to hide his smile this time. "Donna, I think I know what's going on."

"Enlighten me."

"The guy obviously has a thing for you."

She furrows her brow. "I'm sorry?"

"The guy. Your boss. It's pretty obvious that he doesn't want you going out with anyone because he's jealous."

"Josh? Jealous? No way." She shakes her head resolutely. "He's my boss, Todd. Nothing more."

"Your boss that shows up drunk at your apartment on the regular?"

"I mean, we're friends." She backtracks. "Good friends. We're close."

"Right."

She mulls over the night's events, and thinks back to the countless other similar experiences she'd had. A long series of odd moments. She'd allowed herself to entertain the idea before, but never seriously. "Hm. You really think that's it?"

"I know that's it. Textbook jealousy."

"Huh." She says considerately. A smile starts to grow on her face. "Jealous."

"You should call him out on it. Don't let him get away with it."

"You're right! I should call him out on it."

"Tonight."

"Tonight!" She agrees, tipping her drink to him. "Todd, you're a genius."

"Thanks." But he doesn't think that smile, or the flush on her cheeks is for him. "You look pretty pleased with the news."

"Mm? Oh, well, I am. I can't wait to take him to task for everything he's said and done over the past few years. It goes on no more!" She smiles girlishly, and says to herself in a near whisper, "He has a thing for me."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"What?"

"Your boss having a thing for you doesn't bother you?"

"Of course it bothers me."

"You don't seem too bothered."

She grins. "The fact that his feelings for me manifest themselves in such an unproductive, childish way? That bothers me. But the fact that he has feelings for me in the first place? Todd, I can use that very well to my advantage."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

When she arrives at the White House, Josh is still engaged with Matt Skinner. She lets him know she's here, and feels him watch her as she retreats back to the bullpen. Her smile grows, as does her conviction and her excitement with the night's plan.

To no one's surprise, she has nothing to do. Josh has predictably called her back to sit around and do nothing. She passes the time talking first to Leo and then to Ainsley Hayes, all while her indignation grows and gives her the courage to follow through on the plan she'd concocted during the cab ride over.

Josh finally returns to the bullpen, and after talking through something with Ainsley, dismisses her for the evening. She stands there in front of his office resolutely, with no intention of leaving.

He notices her hesitation and asks, "How was your date?" Figuring that's what she wants to tell him. She probably wants to taunt him, to tell him that even though he'd only given her an hour, it was the greatest hour of her life. He mentally prepares himself.

"It was horrible." She declares, surprising him.

He dares to look up at her, unable to hide a slight smile. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Because. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Now he really can't hide his smile. "You were thinking about me on your date? Aw, Donna, I'm flattered."

"Shut up and let me talk." She interrupts coolly. "I couldn't stop thinking about rude you were to me before I left, and how poorly you treat me."

He falters. "Okay, now I'm a little less flattered."

"I couldn't stop thinking about how you called me pathetic, and told me that I have no sense of self-worth."

He seems taken aback by her words. "I called you pathetic?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"...Tonight? Two hours ago?"

"No way. No way I called you pathetic."

"You did! You said my pathetic desire to be coupled-up will forever drown out any small sense of self-worth I may have."

He feels a flash of guilt. His words hadn't seemed quite so harsh until now, with his hurt assistant staring him down. She hadn't deserved that. "I called your desire pathetic, that's different." He says feebly.

"It's not different."

"Okay. I'm sorry." He relents. "I didn't mean it. I was just being..."

"I'm not done." She interrupts, taking a step closer to him. "I was out at dinner with Todd, and I was telling him about what a jerk you are."

"You must be a lot of fun to be in a relationship with." He can't help himself.

She silences him with a glare. "I was upset, and Todd was considerate enough to ask me what was upsetting me."

"I see. Go on."

"So I told him, and he agreed that you were being a royal jackass, and then he asked me whether you do this often. You know, forcing me to work ridiculous hours and sabotaging my love life."

"I don't sabotage your love-"

"Ah ah." She holds up a hand to indicate that she isn't finished. "And I realized that yes, you do this all the time. All the time!"

"Not _all_ the time." He says sheepishly.

"And then Todd said something truly insightful."

"Did he now?" He says scathingly. "Well, enlighten me."

"He told me that it sounded like you were just jealous."

"Jealous of what?"

"Jealous of me. Going out with men. Men that are not you." She watches his face as he registers this, incredulity mounting. She smiles.

"Well that's - that's ridiculous! Insane! What the hell does Todd know, anyway?"

"You seem pretty defensive, there."

"I am! Because that's insane. I am not now, nor have I ever been, jealous of any of the low lives you entertain in you free time."

"You're not?" She asks dubiously.

"I'm not." He says resolutely.

"Then why, exactly, did you call me back here tonight only for me to sit around and do nothing?" She challenges.

"It's not my fault if you're not productive, Donna."

"It's your fault if you call me back to the White House for the sheer reason of keeping an eye on me."

"That's..." He splutters. "You're delusional."

"Am I?"

"Yes." He says adamantly, ignoring the heat rising in his face. "Like your thing with Todd would've worked out anyway." He flings out, hoping to deflect attention.

"It might've. Still might, actually."

"Yeah, I'm sure he had a great time, what with you talking about me the whole time."

"Talking about how you have a thing for me."

"A thing for you!" His voice climbs in pitch and volume. "As if!"

"Great combeack, Cher."

"I don't think I'm the one with a thing here."

"...What?"

"It's obvious, if you can't go on a date without talking about me the whole time, that you've got a _thing_ for me."

"I was talking about how much of a jerk you are."

"Tell yourself whatever you need to tell yourself, Donnatella."

"Wait." A voice punctuates the conversation from the other side of the bullpen. They turn to see Ainsley Hayes, whose presence they had forgotten until this moment. She stares at them over her computer, brow furrowed. "I'm confused."

"By what?"

Ainsley tries to make sense of what's happening. She hadn't listened to most of their conversation, but as it rose to the level of an argument, she began to catch snatches. And what she'd caught is highly confusing to her. "I thought you two were together."

"I'm sorry?"

"I thought you two were dating." Ainsley says bluntly.

They both stand there blinking in surprise at this declaration. Donna is the first to recover. "Well, you would think that, what with how Josh seems to think he's the determiner of my personal life."

And then they're off.

"Oh, come off it!"

"You seem to wish you actually _did_ have a place in my personal life." She says smugly, proud to have provoked him again.

Ainsley scrutinizes them a moment longer before returning to her work. _Strange_.

"Delusional! You're delusional."

"Am I?"

"I'm sure you wish I wished I had a place in your personal life."

"Good rebuttal, Fulbright."

"...thank you."

She pushes on, ready to reach the final stage of her plan. "So there's really only one solution I can see."

"To what?" He asks blankly.

"To our predicament. You know, to me wanting to be coupled up, and to you jealously guarding my personal life."

"I haven't-"

"Would you like to hear my solution?"

He takes a deep breath. "Fine."

"You should just ask me out already."

"I... What?" He's now more confused than Ainsley.

"I mean, it works, right? I get to be coupled up, and you get to have actual claim to my personal life."

"You're serious?"

"Deadly serious."

A cautious smile begins to form. "So that's the only benefit for you? The coupling? Because you could have that with anyone."

"I could." She says considerately. "But you see, I kind of have a thing for you."

He grins, disarmed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well."

"I know you're not so well versed on the whole 'couple' thing, but I think I can teach you. It involves a lot of brunch and complimentary sweaters."

"No."

"To which?"

"Both. Neither. It's not happening."

She shrugs, grinning broadly. "We'll see about that."

"I kind of have a thing for you, too."

"I know. Todd told me."

"Todd..." He trails off, taking a few steps closer to her. "You make me crazy."

"In all the best ways, I hope."

"Sure." He stops, only a few inches between them. "So, you want to get a drink?"

"I've actually already had a few."

"Okay. Food?"

"There we go. I'm starving."

"Couldn't stop to eat a few bites in between talking about me excessively?"

"I couldn't, actually." She smiles smugly, intent on getting one final thing from him. "But. Before we go."

"What?"

"I would like you to say, for the benefit of the entire bullpen-" she flings her arms out dramatically, gesturing to the near-empty bullpen. Ainsley watches subtly. "That my desire to be coupled up is-"

He catches on, and rolls his eyes as if tired by her antics. "Not pathetic in any way, shape, or form. In fact, I truly respect it. It's working out in my favor."

"And my self worth?"

"Incredibly high."

"And the reason you called me back here this evening?"

He sighs dramatically. "I was jealous."

"Aha!"

"Can we go now?"

"You called me back here, under the pretense of work, because you didn't want me to get laid!"

"Okay, let's go."

She turns to get her coat, bathed in the glow of her victory. "Which is ironic, because I'm sure that right now, you're very much hoping I get laid tonight."

"Hilarious."

"I thought so."

He turns in to his office to get his coat and other things. He pauses in the doorway to take in the sight of her again, newly appreciative. "That is a fantastic dress, by the way."

"If you say that it would look better on your floor, so help me god-"

"I wasn't going to. I was just going to say that you should keep it." He says warmly, one hand on the small of her back as they leave the bullpen.

"Oh."

"It looks great on you."

"Well, I can't very well return it anyway. Not after I get it all wrinkled."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"By leaving it on your floor, of course." She grins shamelessly at his expression. Yes, victory was hers. And the following morning, she would be enjoying the finest muffins and bagels in all the land. At brunch.

The complimentary sweaters could come later.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **I hope you all enjoyed it. I feel redeemed, don't you?**

 **Thanks for reading, and please review. Love you guys!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey, my loves. I hope this chapter finds you well. It is an attempt to improve my angst writing, and I'm actually kind of fond of it. It's an AU for the episode King Corn.**

 **I also kinda wrote this poem some time last year from Josh's POV that I've wanted to work into a fic since about then, so I'm including that up top.**

 **As always, I welcome any prompts for other moments, or other episodes, that you would like to see altered or expanded from what they were in the show.**

 **I hope you guys like this! Reviews are eternally enjoyed and appreciated.**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

I'm on a bus full of strangers, and I'm one of them.

I keep waiting for you to walk in

and tell me to snap out of it,

because no one else knows

to do it.

I am thinking about all the ways

I've said your name.

Shouted across a room,

annoyed,

enamored,

laughing.

And I'm thinking about all the ways

I haven't said it.

I am thinking about all the ways

I've touched you.

A hand on your back,

Helping you up,

carrying you,

you in my lap, your hips inside mine.

And I'm thinking about all the ways

I haven't touched you.

I should tell you that

I wouldn't be here if

it weren't for you.

I would've stayed if you'd stayed

I would've stayed for Christmas,

your holiday,

not mine,

not bothered a man at home

with his family.

I should tell you that

the day you left me

you might've determined the fate

of a nation.

I should tell you that

at 3am last week

I woke up to pace my hotel room.

And when

I passed a mirror,

all I saw was some guy

that missed you.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

It's almost midnight when the crippling silence becomes too much for Josh. His impulse to knock on Donna's door is one he'd indulged during many restless nights on the campaign; he would find an excuse to wake her up (if she'd been sleeping, which oftentimes she wasn't) and he'd barge in to her room to bicker with her about the time for a few minutes before she eventually settled on the bed and told him to 'sit down and watch the news with me, pumpkin patch.' Then she would talk to him about something totally unrelated to the campaign, something like her sister's marriage or how she was thinking of buying a pair of bell bottoms but wasn't sure the trend would last.

Whatever her strange and wonderful mind landed on, it always worked. Within an hour his nerves would be settled, and he could return to his room relaxed, at ease, and a little sad to be leaving her behind.

Tonight, he knows this won't happen.

Things have changed. Maybe she won't let him in at all - and if she does, any conversation they could have will likely be fraught and tense.

But the impulse persists. It is almost painful now, as if it comes from a place that was wounded and hasn't quite healed.

He won't be able to sleep tonight, anyway. Why the hell shouldn't he at least try?

He barrels into the hallway and practically into the door, not allowing himself any time to reconsider. He knocks loudly, in that obnoxious way he always does, that she has described as sounding like someone in desperate need of medical attention, or perhaps a safe house from the mob.

A split second later, the same place the impulse had come from throbs in pain, and he thinks briefly that he might throw up. He darts back into his room before the door has even finished closing from his exit, and stands with his back against the door. This usually calms him. He takes several labored breaths, but is interrupted by a sharp knock. He can practically feel her irritation through the wood.

Knowing there's no escape, he pulls open the door, trying desperately to look casual.

Donna stands halfway between his door and her own, which is propped open with a shoe. Her arms are folded, and he'd been dead on in imagining her peeved expression.

"Joshua." She begins, exerting as much disapproval into these three syllables as is possible.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Did you just ding-dong ditch me?"

"Um." He steps into the hall, and his door closes behind him. He's trapped. "Well, yeah."

"Why?"

"You know what? You are not going to believe this, you're going to find it so funny."

"Am I?" She inquires dangerously, looking as though she has never been less inclined to find something funny in her life.

"Yeah, so, I came out and knocked on your door. And then this thing happened."

"What thing?"

He fumbles for an excuse, but lands on the truth. "I was overcome with terror."

"Really?"

"Really."

Slowly, he sees her mouth tug into half a smile. "You know what? That is really funny."

"Yeah. I know."

"What'd you knock on my door for?"

"I wanted to borrow something."

"What?"

"Um, some dignity?"

She grins fully, and the pain in his chest eases. "Josh."

He notices for the first time what she's wearing. She's in pajamas, but not the usual flannel ones or t-shirt and boxers combination. He's being treated to the rare and elusive sight of Donna Moss in very short shorts and a tank top.

Given, he'd seen her in pretty much every state known to man, save nudity, so he has seen this look before. Usually it is during one of his restless hotel nights that he forces her to share with him, or when he finds himself drunk at her apartment at two in the morning. Once, she had worn this outfit or something similar while staying with him during that rough Christmas, in a last ditch effort to cheer him up. It had worked.

It wasn't that he didn't know that Donna was gorgeous. He was, in fact, painfully aware. But it was times like these, when he is caught offguard by her, that he is forced to stop ignoring it. Most days, they can both rest easy with layers of comfortable cardigans and long skirts between them, but then he sees her like this, with legs that go on for miles - miles and miles of pale calves and thighs and an ass he definitely doesn't stare at when she leaves the room - and it gets one level harder.

Once, when he'd been drunk, she'd been walking back and forth in front of the couch endlessly, or so it had seemed, and he'd blurted, " _Your legs are my favorite legs on earth."_

To which she had held back a smile and said, " _What about yours? They're pretty good for, you know, getting you places."_

He'd shrugged. " _Close second. If I had to make a choice... You know, about which one of us got legs? I'd be in a wheelchair."_

She had, of course, written this stunning quote down and used it to mock him for the next six months.

She must notice him staring, because she says softly, "If you don't stop staring at my legs, you're going to be watching them walk away from you."

His gaze returns to hers, and all he can think to say is, "Your scar hasn't faded that much."

Because it hasn't. It's there, in sharp relief, contrasting starkly with her pale skin. For some reason, its presence surprises him. These past few months, she'd looked invincible.

Her face darkens. "No. It hasn't."

"How's your leg been, on the campaign trail? The buses have to be hard."

She looks at him almost suspiciously, as if he has no grounds to show concern for her. "They are. But I'm okay. It's nothing I can't handle."

"Right."

"It is, still, uh, pretty ugly though." She admits, a tad vainly.

He shrugs, hoping to indicate that he doesn't find a thing about her ugly without coming off like a sleaze, as he had moments ago.

She watches him tentatively. "You'd still take the wheelchair?"

He doesn't need to ask what she's talking about. "In a heartbeat."

She grins uncontrollably for two or three seconds before she manages to tamp it down. "So, what did you want? When you knocked?"

He knows how he looks, these days. He hasn't been so buried in the campaign that he hasn't caught glimpses of himself. He looks strung out and tired, not to mention pale. He's lost weight, which he knows only by his belt holes. He'd dropped nearly every vestige of his boyish charm, because as he is realizing, she was his youth and vitality. He knows that unlike in years past, his presence isn't fun or bombastic. It is smaller and harder. He figures that in the fluorescent hallway, his dress shirt revealing too much of his pointed collarbones, he must look fairly pathetic.

He shrugs helplessly, and shoves his hands in his pockets. Unlike her, he hadn't even thought to undress yet. Once again, the truth wends its way up to his tongue and takes possession. "I miss you."

She doesn't melt, as he thinks she once might've. She frowns. "Come inside. We'll talk." She turns and walks into her room, and he notices the slight limp in her step.

Unsure of himself, he follows her inside, where she sits down on the bed.

As much as she prides herself on being able to handle the grueling campaign trail, by midnight, it usually takes a lot more than a knock on her door to force her into being vertical - even if they're up working, she's usually sitting somewhere with her leg up. She'd made an exception tonight. "You can sit down, if you want."

"Um. Okay." He supposes he could drag a chair over, but it's easier to just sit down beside her, a safe distance between them. He stares at his shoes, still shocked that he'd said out loud that he missed her. It is surreal, because the truth has been crushing him from the inside for months. To have it externalized is strange - terrifying, and yet reassuring. He's not alone with it, anymore.

After a minute he feels her watching him, so he chances a glance up at her. She's smiling, and when he meets her eyes, she chuckles almost involuntarily.

"Sorry."

"What's so funny?"

She laughs again at his expression. "It's just, this is the most uncomfortable we've ever been, on a bed together. But it's the only time it's been kind of appropriate."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, when I worked for you, it was nothing for me to lounge around in your hotel room until two am, or for you to come hang out in mine. Which was weird, because I worked for you."

"It was weird?"

"Josh. What would your reaction have been if you found out that Ginger had been hanging out on Toby's bed with him until the wee hours of the morning?"

He screws up his face at this mental image.

"See?"

"Point taken."

"Good."

"We were different, though."

"Yeah." She agrees sadly. "Yeah, we were."

He resumes his intense scrutiny of his shoes.

"So, you miss me, huh?" She prods, not allowing him to let that one slide. He looks up at her, expecting her to be wearing the same amused look of before, but instead she looks doubtful.

"Nobody on this campaign gets my jokes." He says, instead of a real answer.

"I don't get your jokes either, Josh."

"Sure you do. And when you don't, you tell me that I'm being an idiot. These guys just stand there looking terrified of me."

"Something tells me you haven't exactly been the most amicable presence."

"I've been stressed! I'm leading a fucking campaign, what do they want from me?"

"A little love."

"How did Leo do it?"

"He didn't ask to be loved. He asked for respect. The love came with time."

"How much time?"

"You're a very polarizing person, Josh. People either love you like hell, or hate you like hell. So I'll imagine they've already got some strong feelings about you."

He wants to ask her which way she feels most strongly about him. "They don't get my jokes, Donna."

"You know something? My coworkers don't really get my jokes, either."

"Your humor is a bit of a high wire act."

"I've been trying so hard to be professional, and seasoned, and cool headed, that I've been... I don't know. Not myself, I guess."

"You mean to say you haven't yelled at any fascists in the street lately, or shut down any terminals?"

"I'm afraid not." She gives him a thin lipped smile, and then looks away, as if she regrets opening up to him.

"That's not just why I miss you, you know."

"Oh? Because my humor is really enough to miss, all on its own."

"You made everything easier. You made everything... Brighter."

"Josh..."

"I think I'm in love with you." He admits. It's a truth he's been tossing around in his head for months on end, trying and failing to grow accustomed to the feeling. After Gaza, he'd tried to shove it down, someplace where light couldn't reach. He'd just gotten her back, and damned if he was going to lose her over something as trivial as his own emotions. But evidently he was too successful, because she didn't know, and she left him.

The truth had begun to surface again lately, in the silences he couldn't fill with meetings or phone calls, when he was alone with himself and exhausted. When he looked up and saw a bus full of strangers, and realized that it didn't matter who he was with: if she was there, it'd feel like home.

"I know, Josh." She says softly.

He tries not to recoil in shock. "You... What?"

She emerges from her own reverie and looks at him almost absently. "Oh, sorry. That's probably not what you wanted to hear."

"Well, I mean... It's not what I was expecting."

"You'd probably like something a little grander?"

"I mean, this isn't exactly something I do often." He mutters, mortified to find that for once, he is blushing and she isn't. In fact, she hardly looks affected.

"Sorry." She repeats with a slight shrug.

"How did you... Know?"

"Well, you flew to Germany at a moment's notice. You didn't bother to pack any clothes, or, well... Anything. I mean, my own mother had the presence of mind to pack a few sets of clothes, but not you."

"I was preoccupied."

"You didn't get a hotel room, like Colin and my mom." She notices him twitch irritably at the mention of her ex. "You slept in my hospital room. In a chair. You didn't leave my side."

"I..."

"The third most important man in the country, probably very much needed on the other side of the world, didn't leave my side." She recalls, with a nostalgic warmth. She brings her knees up on to the bed and holds them. "I knew, Josh."

"I don't understand."

"What?"

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asks roughly, unable to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice.

"Because what good would it have done, Josh? You may have loved me, but I had no idea if you'd figured that out yet, and I knew that when you did you'd be scared shitless and you'd run for the hills, and if anything happened one of us would've fucked it up by going too far, or not far enough, or..." She trails off, frustrated that she'd broken her cool demeanor. "I just didn't think it changed anything."

"That's pessimistic as hell, Donna." He tells her, deeply disappointed in her. Of all the things that Donna Moss was, he'd never taken her as devoid of hope. He must've been pretty terrible, all those years, to give her so much doubt.

"Yeah, well." She shrugs, and takes a stiff breath. The heat doesn't leave her cheeks, much to her irritation. "I wasn't exactly in a hopeful place."

"What about you?" He asks suddenly.

"What about me what?"

"Were you ever in love with me?" He's surprised at how evenly he manages to ask this - and more so at how easily he'd confessed his own feelings. He is generally the kind of person who reserves the word "love" for blood relations, good music, and a select few brothers in arms. And the signature of cards he gave Donna. Somehow, "Sincerely," and "Yours," had never quite gotten the job done.

"I think you'll remember a twenty-four year old girl who camped out in your hospital room for a week, Josh."

"I do."

"That girl was in love with you." She says, in a jaded way that places cold disappointment between 'that girl' and herself.

"Is this one?" He asks, because he's intuited by now that she's not the same person.

She looks over at him sharply, as if he asks too much of her. He holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Sorry." He mumbles.

She bites her lip, and gazes down at the carpet, indistinguishable from the dozens of other floors she'd stared at in the past months. With something like defeat, she says, "I am."

This moment doesn't feel like it's supposed to. There is no sweet wash of victory, nor the crashing impulse to lock lips and make up for years of repressed desire. Instead, he feels relief, a cooling agent that spreads from his chest - the place where the impulse to knock originated - through the rest of his body. For the first time in months, his lungs can expand fully.

"Huh."

"Huh." She echoes absently.

"Why'd you leave? If you love me?"

"Because. I've told you a million times, my job wasn't enough for me-"

"I meant, why'd you leave without telling me how you felt? Hell, without even saying goodbye?" His voice breaks on this last word, and to cover his emotion he stands up off the bed and paces to the far side of the room, where he stares out the darkened window.

She twists to watch him, and purses her lips. "You know the way you've been feeling, these past few months? In love with me, but not knowing if I cared about you at all?"

He feels the ache climbing back into his chest. "Yeah."

She smiles bitterly. "Imagine feeling like that for seven years."

He whips back around to stare at her, appalled. "You couldn't have thought..."

She shrugs listlessly. "I did."

"But you said you knew. You said you knew, after Germany."

"Josh, you have to understand that I was beyond sick of waiting for you to wake up one day and realize that I was valuable." She says this with so much spent pain, so much weariness, that he is forced to understand.

"I always found you valuable." He refutes, taking a step back toward her.

"Some days, maybe." She capitulates tonelessly.

He knows that that isn't enough. "I took you for granted. I know I did. I was so fucking stupid, looking back on it, but it was easy-"

"Don't." She interrupts him, squeezing her eyes shut. "Don't tell me how easy it was for you to think I'd always be at your side, doting on you, helplessly faithful, just... Don't."

"I didn't think that about you."

"Josh..."

"I didn't." He urges. She isn't looking at him, so he climbs onto the opposite edge of the bed, and reaches one hand out tentatively. "I mean, maybe I did some days, and it was stupid of me, but what was easy about it was... What we had was good. And I didn't want to screw it up. Even by thinking about it too much."

She smiles slightly. He does manage to screw a lot of things up by overthinking, she'll grant him that. "It was good for you." She says pointedly.

"Right. And maybe it wasn't so much for you. I guess I just didn't see it." He says brokenly. It is obvious that his self-blame is reaching a tipping point.

She feels suddenly guilty. "No, it... Was. It was good, mostly."

He almost smiles. At least not everything he'd thought about them had been wrong. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I really do miss you."

"I miss you too." She finally admits. She turns fully to face him, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear almost girlishly. She lowers her eyes. "Nobody gets my jokes, Josh." She repeats, a hint of her trademark pout creeping through.

He grins. "You're an hysterically funny person, Donna."

"Thank you."

"Did you notice how I used 'an' there correctly?"

"Yes."

"You should let loose once in a while with these new guys. Even if they are stiffs, that like the stiff of all stiffs, Bob Russell. They'll like you."

"You think?"

"You're really very likable."

"I've always tried to tell you that."

"I'm finally sold on it."

A silence descends over the plain hotel room, which over the course of the night had changed from one of a million just like it, to, well... One in a million.

The delayed effects of hearing her confess her love for him begin to set in. The wash of victory. And, he becomes acutely aware as they watch each other, cautious but warm, the desire to kiss her. He doesn't really think that he's in love with her, as he'd said. He knows it.

There are a wealth of other things they still need to say to each other. They'll need longer to forgive each other, he knows. He needs to grovel a little more, and she needs to settle into herself more as an independent person. She needs to admit to herself that she's a little bit at fault, too, and then she needs to admit it to him. These things don't happen over night.

But as he watches her, with her faded blush and winter-faded freckles, staring at him with the same wide-open affection in her eyes of that twenty-four year girl... He thinks that maybe some things can happen over night. And a night apart, for two people in love, would surely be a night wasted.

She breaks the tension by saying, "It's been a long night. We should probably go to bed."

"Right." He practically springs off the bed, guilty for where his train of thought had taken him. He avoids eye contact as he takes a few steps toward the door. "I guess, we'll um, talk more later. In the morning, maybe? I know there's more to be-"

"Josh?" She interrupts, voice laced with amusement.

"Mm?"

As she'd wanted to do every time he'd left her hotel room at a similar time of night in the last eight years, she intones softly, "I was hoping you'd stay."

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **I thought it'd be interesting to switch up the whole "I love you" thing. I usually write Donna as being surprised and taken aback by his love for her, but I felt like this could be in character too. The whole "it doesn't change anything" felt very real, too. Let me know what you guys think.**

 **Thanks for reading! I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey guys! Now that _Prodigal Son_ is all wrapped up, I'm ready to have a little fun over here with this story. Today I've got a painfully cute little _Take This Sabbath Day_ AU. Remember when Josh promised to take Donna shoe shopping? I sure as hell do.**

 **Let me know what you think, and I would love some prompts! I've finally got some time to do them, now :)**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"What do you think of these ones? Are they too high?"

"Jesus, how could you walk in those?"

"I'm very skilled. And I've got great calves."

Now that, he's aware of. "Don't buy those."

"I'm not buying anything." She gives him a charming smile.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not buying those."

"I know. It's because you don't like it when I'm taller than you, isn't it?"

"You're never taller than me."

"Okay, level with you. As tall as. Perhaps even a little taller, because of your posture-"

He straightens up reflexively. "Never."

"That's why you don't want me to buy these shoes."

"No. It's because I don't want you whining to me about them all night when you wear them to some event. Or, I don't know, tripping and maiming yourself."

"Aw. You're worried about me. How sweet."

"Just don't want the guilt."

"I'm trying them on." She decides.

"Donna." He whines, but follows her over to a bench nonetheless. He stands over her, watching her slide off her tennis shoes.

"Be quiet." She scolds. "Wasn't that a part of the agreement? No whining?"

"I don't think we hammered out the details."

"Well, I'm imposing it now. No whining."

"But-"

"There's no crying in baseball." She looks up from her task with an endearingly dorky grin. She's been using this line since he can't remember when, probably since she discovered he was a baseball fan, but had just managed to get him to watch the movie a couple weeks ago.

"I can't believe you dragged me into this."

"I didn't. You offered, remember?"

"I did?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I did." He actually remembers this quite clearly. He had been hoping she didn't, however.

The problem with Donna is that Josh has, and has always had, the distinct impulse to spoil her. This impulse isn't bewildering to him just because she is his assistant, but because he's never really had the desire to spoil any woman, period.

He knows it's awful, but most of the time, he's so wrapped up in work and is so unavailable (physically, emotionally, take your pick), that any small gesture of affection or thoughtfulness comes across as momentous to women. Things as small as a phone call, or flowers (usually sent as an apology, if at all) become huge when they're preceded by days of radio silence or cancelled dates. The dates, if there are any (which he generally prefers to avoid, in favor of more recreational activities), are kept to drinks or a modest dinner, which he'll pay for mostly out of guilt for wasting her time.

It's different with Donna.

He can't explain it, but he wants to give her the world. It's almost embarrassing. He wants to treat her to expensive food, extravagant hotel rooms, diamond earrings. He wants to leave small gifts on the night stand when he leaves for an early meeting, he wants her desk to always have flowers. He wants to get her tickets to the plays and concerts she's always on about.

It's not even just with money. He wants to spoil her in other ways. He wants to kiss her awake each morning, he wants to trace the freckles on her chest lazily as she falls asleep. He wants to put sunscreen on her shoulders to protect her so-called alabaster skin. He wants to rub her neck after a particularly trying day. He wants to show her how absolutely perfect he finds her.

Terrible, right?

Of course the only woman he feels this for is the one he can't be with. Some karmic God must be laughing their ass off at his fate, brought on by his years of romantic negligence.

Of course, he can't spoil her. Not properly, at least. He settles for little things, like thoughtful Christmas and birthday gifts with a little too much given away in the card, or inscription. He walks her to her car. He buys her lunch, and dinner, and breakfast sometimes, and even when he doesn't she eats his food, anyway, so it evens out. He lifts her over puddles (he's not sure who was more surprised when he did that - her or him). And now, apparently, he buys her shoes.

"What do you think?"

He snaps back to reality. "Can you stand up?"

"Probably. Do you like the look of them?"

"They look hard to stand in." He persists, hoping to goad her into getting up and wobbling around for his enjoyment.

"They're fine." She snaps. "See?" She stands up off the bench and teeters precariously. She starts to stumble, but he reaches out reflexively and stills her with his hands on either side of her waist.

"Okay there?"

She huffs, either with irritation or genuine adrenaline at having almost hit the floor. "I would've been fine."

"Sure."

She regains her composure, and looks down at her feet. The contrast of jeans, warm socks, and sparkly heels is a little funny to Josh, but she seems able to look past it. "I like them."

"Like them? Those things are dangerous."

"Look." She lifts her head again, staring directly at him. "We're practically of a head."

"You're delusional."

"I've got this dress they'd match perfectly. You know, the navy one?"

"I don't."

"Well I have this dress they'd match perfectly."

He has yet to take his hands off her waist, but she doesn't seem to mind. He doesn't either. "Well then it's almost worth the fall risk."

"I think so."

From down the aisle, two women are watching them and smiling surreptitiously. One of them whispers something to the other, and Donna glances over at them curiously.

"Sorry!" One woman calls, unable to hold back a giggle. "You guys are just so cute."

They must look confused, because her friend clarifies, "I mean, he's actually shoe shopping with you! My boyfriend wouldn't do that if I paid him."

"Mine either." The first woman adds sincerely.

Josh and Donna exchange a look. It's not the first time they've been mistaken for a couple, of course - far from it. The challenge is how to react. They still haven't charted a set course for moments like these.

He knows he should probably take his hands off of her, move a step away, and clarify the mistake. But, hell, it's Saturday. He's earned a little fun. He flashes them a grin. "Well, I'm one of the good ones."

Donna sends him a surprised look that borders on amused. The women titter as she bites her lip, considering her next move. She lifts one hand to rest in the center of his chest, the other arm looping around his back. She turns them just a little toward their audience. "And would you believe it? He's buying them, too."

One of the women looks like she might actually cry. "Oh my god, that's so sweet."

Josh, on the other hand, is distracted by the woman in his arms, who is currently smiling slyly. He sees - she's trying to one up him. "Well, I had to make it up to her for last Saturday. I had to work, you know, and she just hates to be away from me."

He's sure that if there weren't others present, she'd be kicking him with her utterly dangerous shoes right now. He fights back a grin.

"Of course! I would too." Woman two enthuses.

Donna narrows her eyes. "But that's nothing. He missed me so much he had me come in and hang out in the office, remember dear?"

She's throwing out the pet names. Their game of brinkmanship is getting risky.

This sends the women into another fit of hysterics, but when they recover, they save Josh a reply by announcing, "Well, we won't keep you from your afternoon any longer! Have a great day, you two."

"You too!" Donna calls cheerfully as they work their way to another aisle. Once they're out of sight, she removes her hands from him and gives him a grin. "I win!"

He rolls his eyes, feeling the loss of her in his arms. "By default."

"Look, I can definitely walk in these." She turns away from him and walks down the aisle. He definitely does not stare at her ass. She turns and walks back to him, swaying only a little, and he quickly raises his eyes back to hers. She's looking at him triumphantly.

"What? Oh, yeah, sure."

"I can!"

"How much are those?"

She shrugs.

He picks the box up off the floor and looks at the price. His eyes widen comically. "Seriously?"

She takes the box from him and looks at it too. "They're on sale! See?"

"Yes, from a large fortune to a small fortune."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine. I'll keep looking."

"Nah, I'll get 'em."

Her eyes light up. "Really?"

"Really."

"You're just saying that because you want to leave."

"Hey, take it or leave it."

"I'll take it!" She says happily, plopping back down onto the bench to take them off.

He watches fondly as she starts to lace up her white sneakers. They're stark white, because she doesn't get much of a chance to wear them. For some people, seeing someone they know dressed up is a rare treat. But given their line of work, seeing her in jeans and a sweatshirt is infinitely more thrilling.

Before he knows what he's doing, he's kneeling in front of her and tying one of her shoes while she ties the other. She freezes and looks up at him curiously. Eventually, her mouth quirks up in half a smile. "You really want to leave, huh?"

"You bet."

She snorts and finishes tying her shoe. She beats him to it, and settles back to watch him finish his task with undue intensity. She runs one hand through his hair absently. "You're sweet."

"Thanks." He pulls apart the knot and starts over. He doesn't want this moment to end.

When they eventually make their way to the checkout, he pulls out his wallet with just the right amount of sighing and griping.

Donna puts a hand on his arm. "I love you." She enthuses.

He tries very hard not to smile like an idiot. "Sure." He says. The cashier gives him a knowing look.

They walk outside, into the crisp but sunny February afternoon, and there's really no question of the outing ending yet. "Lunch?" She suggests.

"Sure."

"The place a few blocks up okay? You know, Sully's?"

"Sure."

She gives him a fond look. "Thanks for the shoes."

"Any time." He means that.

"You really didn't have anything better to do today?"

He smiles. "Surprisingly, no."

"I'm not that surprised."

It wouldn't have mattered if he'd been invited numerous other places, more glamorous or lucrative, he still would've considered this his best option. "Hey."

"You would've probably just spent the day working."

He shrugs. "Probably." Either way, he would've spent it with her. Or at least bugging her by phone, that's for sure.

Her voice starts to take on a whining note. "You know, back at the shoe store..."

"What?"

"When I first put on the shoes, and I lost my balance?"

"When you almost face planted, and I heroically saved you, but go on."

"I think I twisted my ankle." It becomes a full-blown pout.

He rolls his eyes, knowing where this is going. "Sucks."

"Josh." She whines.

"What?"

"It hurts."

He's already slowing down. "I'll assume you want me to carry you?"

"Aw, would you?"

He stops on the sidewalk and waits for her to get on. She claps her hands together excitedly before she does so. He sets off again, more slowly than before - not because she's terribly heavy, but because he wants to make these next few blocks last.

"You're the best."

"Yeah, I've been told."

Yeah, they probably don't do enough to dispel the dating rumors that have been circulating around DC since November '98.

"You're probably waiting for me to talk about how strong you are, stoke your ego a little, right?"

"There's no strength involved. You weigh less than Sam's golden retriever."

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're comparing me to a dog now?"

"Well, none of our friends have kids, so..."

"Oh, so you would've compared me to a toddler?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't Sam's dog die a couple months ago?"

"Yeah."

"So what you did is you compared me to a dead dog."

"Would appear so."

"No other pets, either?"

"I mean, there's Gail, but..."

"But she's a little body conscious?"

"Right."

"I've gained five pounds since I moved here, you know."

"Sure."

"I have!"

"I know, I can tell."

"Hey!" She hits the side of his head, and he laughs.

He loves this. The easy nothingness of their conversation.

Most of the time, he's task oriented, always focused on work and an end goal. He doesn't waste time in conversations that aren't productive. And if he does, he's thinking about what he's going to do next.

It's not like that with Donna. Though it might feel like a waste of time with anyone else, talking about totally inane things with her, like dead dogs, or bad movies, or which Supreme she would be, has never failed to entertain him. He's content to while away hours on end with her, doing and talking about nothing at all. He finds himself slowing down when he's with her.

She isn't like this with everyone; girlish, ridiculous, goofy. He's grateful she ever got to that point with him - she was so nervous and solemn for the first few days, trying to make sure she was taken seriously. It didn't take long for her little quirks and neuroses to start slipping out as she became more comfortable, and around him moreso than anyone else.

He's unfailingly a little more ridiculous when he's around her, too. He's always been somewhat immature and wisecracking, but around her he can be downright stupid.

Some men reach for booze, or a high, or even sex at the end of a long day. Josh reaches for Donna, and her perfect, mindless banter.

Even when he does reach for those things, he ends up reaching for her anyway, as her roommate might attest.

"So, you know that woman from last weekend?" Donna asks as they walk. Or, rather, he walks. She has the distinct impulse to lean down and kiss the crook of his neck.

"Who?"

"Joey Lucas."

"Oh. Yeah."

"She was pretty attractive, don't you think?"

"Don't start with me."

"What?"

"You're trying to matchmake me."

"I'm not!"

"Donna."

"And if I am, what's the problem? I'm a great matchmaker."

"Sam would beg to differ."

"Okay, that was an exception to the rule! It wasn't my fault she'd gotten so clingy since the last time I met her."

"Donna, no."

"Fine." She sulks. Or at least, pretends to sulk. She's secretly glad he isn't showing more interest.

"We're here." He sets her down unceremoniously, and they walk together into the restaurant.

Ten minutes later, he's pretending to be irritated as she steals his fries.

"I said to you - I said - 'you sure you don't want more than salad? Because I don't want to see you stealing my food ten minutes from now'."

She shrugs. "I wasn't that hungry."

"But now?"

"Famished." She grabs his burger and takes a bite, before immediately screwing up her face. "Way burnt. Why do you do this?"

"Specifically to spite you."

She puts it back on his plate and grabs her drink to wash it down with. "No taste."

"Yeah, that's why I'm hanging out with you."

"Ha! Hilarious." She feigns.

"Thanks."

She starts picking at her salad again, obviously distracted by something. He debates whether to ask her about it, or wait for her to speak. After a minute or so, he finally gives.

"What's up?"

She sets down her fork. "It's just, this is kind of weird, isn't it?"

"...you're going to have to be more specific, there."

"Us. Like this."

"Again, you're-"

"Spending weekends together. Being together outside of work all the time. Hell, the amount of time we spend together at work is kinda weird, but..."

He sits up straighter, something in his chest tightening. They don't talk about this. They never do. "I'm not following."

"Okay, I'll put it to you this way. If you heard that Leo took Margaret out shoe shopping, then carried her down the street, then had lunch with her, you'd think...?"

"Um, ew?"

She laughs a little bit. "Seriously."

"And, I don't know, Leo must be working out more than I thought?"

"Josh."

"What are you saying? That we shouldn't do this anymore?"

"No, no, I love this, I do, it's just-" she reaches out and grabs his hand.

"Donna."

"Huh?" She finally looks up at him.

"Come here."

"What?"

He inclines his head at the space next to him on his side of the booth. "Come over here."

She knits her brow curiously, but slides out of her seat and into the one next to his nonetheless. She's surprised when he moves even closer, closing the few inch gap between them. "Um." Her heart rate accelerates, but it's nothing compared to when he rests one hand on her thigh. "Wow, okay-" He threads the other hand into her hair and presses his lips to hers, giving her no time to think. She's stunned, but before long she's opening her mouth under his and balling the front of his shirt in her hands.

He pulls back an inch, and in a low, husky voice says, "You're fired."

That clears the fog. She rears her head back. "Hey, no way! I was going to quit."

He grins at her. "Too late. I beat you to it: you're fired."

"I'm impervious!"

"I keep telling you, you're not."

"No fair!"

He rolls his eyes. "Fine. I'll accept your two weeks' notice."

She bounces once, happily. "I'm out of a job."

"You are."

"That's okay, I have friends in high places." She starts to pull him toward her again.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _One month later_

"I don't know that it quite matches the shoes." She frets for the tenth time.

"Oh my god, if we go into any more stores, I'm smothering myself with that plastic bag."

She frowns. "You're not being a very good sport."

"I was a good sport for two hours. And, I'll remind you, I didn't even want to come."

"You thought we should spend the whole day in bed."

"Yeah."

"But I know you. You hate wasting the day."

"A day in bed with you is in no way a day wasted."

She smiles. "Thanks for going shopping with me."

"Yeah, yeah." He absently plays with her hair as they walk down the street. "I thought the whole purpose of those shoes was that they went with some dress you already owned. So remind me why we're dress shopping?"

"Well, when I got home, I found that they went with the dress, but together they were a bit... Much, you know?"

"Not even a little."

"What do you say. Food?"

He checks his watch. "It's barely eleven."

"Not lunch. Ice cream."

"Yeah, okay." He won't get any. He's sure she'll force him to try hers.

"Or, ooh, you know what? We should look at comforters."

"Why?"

"The apartment needs a new one."

"What's wrong with my comforter?"

"It's too..." She gestures vaguely. "Male."

"Well..." He looks down at himself, even adding a few pats as though he's checking himself. "Yup, still male."

She rolls her eyes. "I think you could use something nicer. Something that doesn't scream 'the first thing I saw when I walked into the department store'."

"You know you don't live there, right?"

"Well, sure, but if I'm going to spend the vast majority of my nights there, don't you think I should have a say?"

"Donna, I honestly don't care. Buy a new comforter, change out all my stuff, move all of your stuff in. I'm fine with it."

She looks over at him suspiciously. "You're being very amicable about this whole commitment thing."

He shrugs. "Yeah."

"I feel like one day you're going to wake up and freak out that I'm in your apartment, and that I've changed your entire life."

He doubts it. He pulls her in and kisses her cheek. "Yeah, but today is not the day."

She laughs. "So then you won't mind if I look at shower curtains?"

"Lead the way."

A few minutes later, she starts, "You know, all this shopping is making me kind of woozy."

He tries not to smile. "I'll assume you want me to carry you?"

"If you don't mind." She says sweetly. He allows her to climb onto his back, and she kisses the crook of his neck contentedly.

"You might just be physically exhausted. From last night."

She hits the side of his head, and he laughs. "Jerk."

"Sorry."

"Last night was pretty nice, though." She says primly.

"Oh yeah?" He smirks.

"Dinner was great."

"Probably because you finally got something other than a salad."

"I wish I'd gotten the lobster." She laments.

"You had half of mine."

"Not enough. Oh, and the cheesecake! To die for."

"I'm glad you liked it."

"And the champagne..."

"Uh huh."

"And the earrings! God, I had no idea. They were beautiful."

"I try."

She smiles. "And, hell, the sex was great too."

He laughs. "Glad it made the list."

He has to go into the office later, and as such is dressed for work, so they're a little more recognizable than usual. They've already passed a staring congressional staffer, but he doesn't really care.

"So, how's your sabbath going?" She asks.

"Perfect."

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **How are all of your Sabbaths going? :)**

 **I told you guys it was painfully cute, but hey, no one ever died from fluff. Tell me what you thought, and definitely leave some prompts if you have any!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey guys! I've got something a little unusual for you today. I began work on this fic ages ago, when _AnnieFA_ and I discussed the idea after I posted chapter eight of this story. We discussed how Josh would react if Donna died, and we agreed that we believed that he couldn't live without her, in the most literal sense of the phrase.**

 **So, I started this idea. It started out grim, before I realized I couldn't possibly write something so bleak. That's where the twist came in. Fast forward to this week, when this was only half written, and I was browsing AO3. To be honest with you guys, I don't often read West Wing fanfic, because I binged so much of it before I started writing. Of course, I read new stuff when it comes out, especially by my faves. But generally I don't binge read it too much, because it either overloads my brain with ideas, or I get so jealous that someone else wrote something so beautiful that it makes me never want to write again because I know I'll never stack up, lol.**

 **But, I was doing so this week, because who knows? I needed some fanfic, I guess. I read this one piece called 13 scenes from a marriage, or something similar. I am so sorry that I'm paraphrasing the title and that I can't remember the author, but I know that if I go back to look at it I'll read it all over again and be bawling my eyes out for the second time. If someone else wants to tell me in the reviews, please do, because I'd love to give credit. It was so wonderfully written and left me emotionally wrecked.**

 **Without spoiling anything, it discussed the topic of death, and it got me thinking about this poor little fic I'd neglected. So, here we are.**

 **I apologize in advance if it's a little - or a lot - melodramatic. That's just how I'm feelin', guys. I hope you'll enjoy it! It's not a tearjerker, I promise. I'm too weak to write one of those right now ;)**

 **TW: mentions of suicide**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

He knows when the surgeon enters the waiting room that she's gone. Maybe it is the man's expression, or maybe it is that every light in the room dims. The three of them stand, reflexively, and listen to the devastating confirmation of what he'd known in his gut. Of course he'd known. The world had gained a hundred watts the day he'd met her. It only made sense that he can hardly see in the darkness now.

He barely registers her mother's strangled wail, or the fact that she flings herself into his arms. He holds her, numbly. He has no idea how to handle her grief - his own is filling up in his lungs, in the room. He doesn't think there is space for it.

When Colin gently pulls her away from him, and leads her to a chair, Josh can no longer remember why he ever held any animosity toward the man. He exchanges brief, charged eye contact with him before staggering out the door. He fumbles blindly down the hall before finally finding the door to the balcony. He falls through it just in time to collapse on the pavement, curling in a ball against the wall.

He wraps his arms around his knees, so tightly that his chest can't expand all the way.

 _She can't be dead. She can't._

She can't possibly be gone, because he is still here. And everyone knows that he can't live without her. She must be here somewhere, waiting to lean around the doorframe and make a playful jab at his current vulnerability.

But she doesn't.

He barely registers that tears are falling down his face and dripping down his neck. His breath hitches raggedly every time he tries to inflate his lungs, because _he can't live without her._

He can't. He can't possibly wake up tomorrow on a day that had never known her. He couldn't possibly wake up and go anywhere that she wasn't, that she would never be. And - _God_! DC. He wasn't even home. Not that he could ever be home again. Not really.

He couldn't go back there. He realizes it suddenly, panic welling up inside him. He couldn't get on the plane, and go back to the place she'd walked, daily. To the places he'd seen her, and loved her. A city of shadows.

He hadn't told her.

Why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't he told her five years ago? Why hadn't he told her the first time he'd seen her? Hell, why hadn't he told her a few hours ago, when she'd been watching him with that morphine-induced drowsiness, and she was here, she was still _here_?

He should've told her that he loved her. But maybe she knew. Maybe everyone knew.

He hopes they'll understand.

He feels himself standing, his legs moving toward the balcony. His hands briefly grip the rail before vaulting himself over it, onto the ledge. He hadn't thought he'd be capable of doing that, what with his inability to breathe.

He hopes his mom will be okay.

It's not like his work at the White House will be missed. He couldn't function without her, surely they'd know that.

He sways slightly in the breeze, and finally manages a full breath. He'd tell her. And if he couldn't, if it didn't work like that, at least everyone else would know. And he wouldn't have to wake up in a world without her tomorrow - or ever.

The last thing he thinks before jumping is how lucky he is to have loved someone _this much._

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Josh wakes with a jolt and immediately sits up in bed, fumbling around him blindly. He finally locates a lamp and the room is bathed in light. A bare room, with bland paintings and drab wallpaper. A hotel room, he realizes.

He is covered in a cold sweat, and he can feel his heart beating rapidly, adjusting to being back in the real world. He is disoriented, but several comforting images flood back to him; he sees her waking up in the hospital bed and smiling at him, he sees her in the White House bullpen on crutches.

She lived. He doesn't think he's ever felt more relieved in his life. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, fighting back tears of relief. He wants to get up and find her, pull her into his arms and tell her how happy he is just to see her.

But the images don't stop there. He sees the temp at her desk. He sees her watching him with those cold, removed eyes.

He deflates rapidly. He tries to remember what could have made him have that dream. He thought he was done with those nightmares; the last one he'd had was before she left him. He thought he had cauterized that wound for good.

That's right. He'd seen her. Last night, across the hall from him. God, she was just across the hall. He tries to ignore the second wave of relief he feels: she is right next door. Maybe he can see her this morning, and affirm that she is real.

He needs to see her, he realizes. And he doesn't mean peering sheepishly from the Santos cluster of tables to the Russell one. He doesn't want to surreptitiously watch her sip her coffee and talk strategy with Will Bailey like the seasoned pro he knows her to be, and that she's been acting more and more of lately. He doesn't want to be comforted by her presence, only for her to slip through his grasp again, away from him indefinitely.

Maybe it's a remnant of his nightmare, but he feels the painful constraint of time. He needs to see her _now_. He needs to tell her now.

It may have been a dream, but it hammered home a powerful lesson: he doesn't have any time to waste. Every minute that she walks this earth is a gift.

He barrels into the hall and pounds on her door. He waits, breathing heavily, for her to open it, sleep muddled and pissed and _real_. But she doesn't. His heartrate increases with every passing second, the part of him that's still stuck in Germany throwing images of bloodied bandages and her empty bed at him.

He checks his watch. 6:15. _What the hell?_ Had he slept through his wake up call? No wonder she isn't in her room. She must be downstairs. Hell, most of his staff must be downstairs, but now isn't the time to worry about that. He has to catch her before she leaves.

He must look a mess, but, appropriate clothing be damned. This needs to happen now.

Heart pounding in his throat, he hurtles to the elevator. While waiting for it, he considers sprinting down the stairs instead. Thankfully, it arrives before he can.

He steps out into the lobby, where a quiet, perfunctory breakfast is underway. From a table by the window, Matt calls out to him. He's sitting with Arnie Vinick, which should be amusing, or concerning, or something, but Josh doesn't linger on them. He scans the room and finds her at a table with Will and two other people he probably should know the names of, but hell, the fact that he remembers Will's right now is pretty astounding.

She looks tired, and pale, and underfed, but she puts the air back into his lungs. She looks alive.

He makes his way to her, bumping too many tables. She looks up at him just as he's bearing down upon her, and her eyes widen.

"I need to talk to you."

She drops her spoon into her bowl of yogurt and stares at him. "Josh, what..."

He's still breathing like he just ran a marathon. "Now, preferably."

Her stare, which was at first defensive, becomes worried. Regardless of circumstance, she'll always worry about him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. I need to talk to you."

"You look like you ran here. You look like you slept in those clothes." Thankfully, he'd fallen asleep in his slacks and undershirt last night, and hadn't made it down to his boxers. Otherwise, he'd be treating the entire dining room to a show right now. "You're sweating, and you look like..." Her expression melts in realization. "Oh, _Josh_."

"Listen. I had that dream again."

"That... Oh." She blanches. She looks around them fervently. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

The entire dining room is staring. His staff, hers, Vinick's. All other conversation has ceased, and everyone looks worriedly between them, unsure of what is happening.

"I had that dream, you know, where I was in Germany again. And you were in surgery again. And you... You didn't make it." He closes his eyes briefly, and swallows painfully. He tries to get his breathing under control.

"Josh, please, can we-" She makes to stand up from her seat, and usher him out of the room.

"But it didn't end there."

That stills her. She sinks hesitantly back into her chair. "What?"

"I saw what I did after you died." He tells her.

Her brow furrows. She'd first found out about these dreams a month or so after she'd come back to work. He'd been waiting anxiously at her desk when she arrived, which was unusual. He looked strung out and sleep deprived, even more so than usual. He continued to stare at her, reassuring himself, all day. Finally she'd coaxed the truth out of him when he kept finding excuses not to let her go home that night. Ever since then, he told her when the dream recurred. When it did, she tried to stick by him. She tried to reassure him with her eyes that she wasn't going anywhere. Until she had.

The dreams always ended after she died. She's so curious to hear what comes next that she forgets that she's in the dining room of a Holiday Inn, surrounded by her coworkers and opposition staffers alike.

"What you... Did?"

He nods. "I killed myself." He says flatly.

Her mouth falls ajar. "You..." She gapes at him. "You _what_?"

"I jumped off the roof of the hospital. Or a balcony, or something. It doesn't really matter. What matters is that I realized that I couldn't live without you."

She swallows, trying to overcome her shock. "It was just a dream, Josh." She says, looking away from him. She doesn't quite reach the soothing tone she'd usually have for him, but it isn't the distant one she's been using, either. It's somewhere inbetween, and somewhat on edge.

She'd had those dreams, too. For longer than she cared to admit, she would awake suddenly, her heart hammering in her ears, still trapped in a fog of gunfire, sirens, and cold, sinking panic. They always ended there, though.

"Donna." His voice snaps her out of her reverie. "I _can't_ live without you."

She presses one hand to her forehead. What's he saying, that if she died, he'd seriously take his own life? He would go down in tragic Romeo fashion? He can't possibly believe that. "Josh, you're being..."

"I'm serious."

"It was a _dream_." She repeats faintly.

"So what? It made me think. About this, about us. What we're doing right now."

"Please, can we-" She stands and grabs his arm vainly.

"I'm not living right now. What I'm doing, it's all... It's not living. Not without you."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I can't do this anymore. I know you're pissed at me, for a lot of stuff, half of which I probably don't understand, and hell, six hours ago I was pissed at you too, but..." His eyes soften. "All that's shit compared to what we have."

"I don't..."

"We've had more than a couple near death experiences between us, so I don't want to take any more chances." He offers a slight smile.

This is ridiculous. This is so ridiculous, and so Josh. So pure, coming-apart-at-the-seams, all-semblance-of-verbal-filter-gone, unadulterated Josh. It's making her ache with nostalgia, and worse than that, it's making her smile. "We do seem to have the odds stacked against us, don't we?"

"Yeah." He agrees, relieved. This is the first time she's said something that wasn't to dissuade him, to shut him up, or to get him out of the room. Her hand is still on his arm.

"Who would've thought so many people wanted us dead?"

"Me, I can understand. But you..."

Her grin falters. "What does this mean, Josh?"

"I love you."

That definitely wasn't the answer she'd expected. But then, he'd just announced that he would kill himself if she died, so, maybe this isn't so outlandish. "Josh, you're being crazy."

"Oh, definitely." He agrees. "But you know what would be so much more insane? If I went even one more day without talking to you. Without fixing this."

"Why do you have to fix it like _this_?" She takes her hand off his arm to gesture at their surroundings and audience. Most look away guiltily. It's true, he knows, this is like something out of a bad day time soap opera. He's professing his undying love to her because of something he saw in a dream.

But then, their relationship has always had an element of theatrics, even if not obvious to the untrained eye. Aesthetic scenes of tied bow ties and rain soaked days, red eye planes to Germany, her hand in his when he woke up in GW. "I wouldn't stop for red lights," "Those stories would make me like you," snowballs thrown, jackets offered, a band of tuxedoed wingmen.

"I have to fix it somehow. This seemed the most... Expedient."

That makes her smile a little. "We can't fix this in one morning, Josh."

"Well then I had to get the ball rolling. And, I did. I just want to hear you say that we'll try."

"Of course we will! Of course we'll try. I want nothing more than for us to be okay again."

"Then what've these past few months been about?"

"Josh." She bites her lip. "They've been about a lot of things. And it hasn't just been me, you know."

"I know." He swallows. "I just... I love you. I need you to know that. Through all of it. For years, now, okay? I love you."

"Josh..."

"You don't have to say it back or anything. I get it. I'm sort of springing this on you."

"You don't say."

"I'm sorry, I had to."

"God, this is so like you. You're the most impulsive man I've ever met."

He grins. "Marry me."

She reels back. He's joking, isn't he? He has to be. "You're kidding, right?"

"Right now? Yeah, mostly. I mean, I love you, I can't live without you, so naturally it follows that I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He has to know that by now he's left her miles behind, reeling in the dust. "I never want this to happen again. I never want to wake up like this, without you next to me."

She splutters, folding her arms. By now her cheeks are bright red. "I can't believe this."

"So yeah, whether it's today, six months from now, ten years from now, I hope you'll agree to marry me. Unless you, like, don't believe in the institution of marriage or something. But I'm pretty sure you do." He squints, considering.

For some reason, she finds herself nodding. "I do."

"Great! So, today's as good a day as any. Marry me?"

At this point, he's practically gleeful. He finds that for the first time in months, he can read her like an open book - just like he used to. She may be shocked, she may be even a little pissed at him for doing this, but she's drinking in his every word. She needs to hear every one of them.

The room waits with baited breath. At the table by the window, Matt Santos looks like his campaign manager has changed species before his eyes. Arnie Vinick looks vaguely amused. At the table a foot away from them, Will Bailey looks up at Josh and Donna with obvious disbelief.

He aims a look at Josh that very clearly says, 'There's no possible way the opposition's campaign manager is proposing to my staffer right now.'

Josh shrugs, as if to say, 'Yeah, there is.'

Josh looks back to Donna, the only person he's trying to win over. He smiles at her reassuringly. With his eyes, he says 'Join me, the water's fine.'

For the first time in months, she can read him like an open book.

It's insane. He's gone from telling her that he lives for her, to declaring his love for her, to asking her for a lifetime commitment. And he's done it all before seven in the morning, in the bleak dining room of a Holiday Inn with countless onlookers.

The funny thing is, she can't imagine being proposed to any other way.

He keeps looking at her with his 'you and me against the world' smile, as if he knows what she's going to say before she does. This is what a man with no care left in the world looks like.

 _Marry me?_

One half of her mouth curls upward. "Okay."

"What?"

"You heard me."

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **See? Happy ending :) I know the whole waking up, _Oh, it was just a dream_ thing was pretty contrived, but I just couldn't go through with it otherwise. **

**I've rediscovered my fondness for spontaneous marriage proposals. The kind not just without warning, but without a first kiss, first date, nothing. Just a blind lifetime commitment. I know it's a little ridiculous but I love it, nonetheless.**

 **Also, finally: my fiancé and I are leaving for Morocco later this week (yay)! I'm super excited about it, but it also means that I might not be posting again for a while (we get back in mid-July). I might post again before then, or on my trip if I happen across some wifi and free time, but I might not.**

 **In the meantime, keep leaving your prompts (I've loved the ones I've gotten so far!) and let me know what you'd most like me to update first! Right now I've got the _Prodigal Son_ epilogue, updates for _Elections, Deceptions, and Conceptions,_ chapters for this and for _Orphan Collective_ and _What I Remember_. I've also got a couple other things I'm working on, new stories, but those are still under wraps ;) a hint for one: College AU! It's typical, I know, but I'm excited. **

**Leave a comment here or on your preferred story with what your priority updates are! I'd like to gauge where people's interest is at.**

 **Love you all, and I'll be back with you soon. I hope to hear from you in the meantime! Thanks for reading.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey everybody! I've got a little Thanksgiving fic for you guys. I'm late, I know, but what else is new? It's set during season four (post-ep for _Arctic Radar_ ), I hope you enjoy!**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"So, what is everyone thankful for this year?"

A collective groan rises from the table. "CJ, c'mon." Josh whines.

"You're not really going to make us do that, are you?" Toby asks incredulously.

CJ simply smiles at him over her glass. They'd long since polished off the wine and moved on to the whiskey Toby had brought as a holiday offering. "I thought it would be nice."

"CJ. We're spending thanksgiving with our coworkers, and, well, Will." Toby points out. CJ had thought that the least they could do for poor Will, after Toby had drawn him away from his vacation, was to invite him to their meager 'friendsgiving.' "Let's not get any Courier & Ives delusions of what's going on here, okay?"

"Don't demean our Thanksgiving. You chose to be here, Toby, so don't pretend otherwise."

"Like I could've gone to Andy's, with the pregnancy and all that mess? Her family hated me before, and I certainly haven't done myself any favors by knocking her up out of wedlock."

"Is it still out of wedlock if you've been... Wedlocked... Before?" Josh inquires, amused.

"Yes. It's even worse because it appears as though I divorced her for the sheer purpose of knocking her up out of wedlock."

"She divorced you."

"Thank you for reminding me. You're right, I have so much to be grateful for."

"You saw family last Thanksgiving. Why not this year?"

"My brother's at his in laws, my sister's too far, it's... Whatever."

"I'm sorry we're the best you could do this year, Toby." CJ mock-simpers.

"I am too."

CJ chuckles. "Anyway! I still want to do it."

Another, louder groan erupts from the table. Will is looking somewhere between amused and regretful, likely because he's here and not in a castle in Nice.

"C'mon! We did it last year."

"I wasn't here last year." Toby reminds her.

"Me either." Josh adds. He'd had to schlep down to the hell hole that is Florida.

"Right. Well, it was Sam, Donna, Carol, Ed, Larry, and I-"

"Ed and Larry got invited last year?"

"You guys were gone! My two favorite men up and took leave of me, what's a girl to do?" She says defensively.

"I don't know, cancel Thanksgivinng?" Josh suggests reasonably.

CJ rolls her eyes. "Anyway, Donna made us do it. And I was skeptical at first, but it was... Sweet."

"She did?" Josh perks up at this. He smiles slightly. "Of course she did. That's just like her."

"Of course it went well for you guys. Sam, Donna... You had the sensitive crowd. Now you've got a couple of cynical Jews." Toby mumbles.

"Speaking of which, she should be here." Josh says, obviously still on Donna. He takes a sip of whiskey and shifts irritably.

CJ gives him a look. "Not this again."

"I'm just saying, you say you're going to have dinner with some people-"

"She had dinner with us!"

"-and she leaves right after, for what, some guy she barely knows? It's thanksgiving, you're supposed to spend it with... Well..."

"It's a new thing, she's excited! Their first date went well, they wanted to see each other again. Leave the poor girl alone, she barely gets any time to herself."

"And definitely not enough time away from you." Toby agrees.

Josh pouts. "I'm just sayin'..."

CJ shakes her head. "Anyway," she slaps a hand down on the table, "we're doing this."

"Doing what?"

"The thankfulness thing! Jesus Christ, at this rate, I'm most thankful you'll be leaving soon."

Toby harrumphs. "Okay. If it'll make you happy-"

"It will."

"-then we'll do it."

"Thank you."

"So that we can get back to our drinking, uninterrupted."

She rolls her eyes. "Would you like to start?"

"Would you?"

She takes another sip of whiskey. "I'll tell you what I'm thankful for. Because I don't struggle with these things, you know? Unlike some people. I'm self-aware. I can self reflect. I'm in touch with myself and all... That."

"I'm happy for you."

"I'm thankful for my job."

Toby and Josh simultaneously tap their glasses on the table, making Will jolt. "Here, here!"

"I'm thankful that Jed Bartlet is President."

"Here, here!"

"I'm thankful for the people that I work with, even you two insufferable fools-"

"Here, here!"

She smiles. "Especially you two insufferable fools, actually. I'm thankful for good friends, good food, and good booze."

"Here, here!"

"I'm thankful for my family, and for my education. For all the things that have been provided to me, and all the things I've worked for. This place-" she gestures broadly around her apartment, "-and, oh! All my shoes. Who's next?"

The three men present laugh.

"Will?" CJ prompts the man on her immediate left.

Will starts. He hadn't thought he was obliged to participate in this exercise. "Oh. Oh, me?" They all stare at him. "I'm thankful I won my race. Um. I'd be a little more thankful if I was on a beach in Nice right now, but... I'm thankful Sam stepped up. And I'm even thankful he sent me here. I'm glad I'm doing this."

Toby sips his whiskey. "Better be," he mutters.

CJ tosses her napkin at him. "And you, Tobias? I believe you're next."

He mumbles something into his drink before sighing. He sits forward. "Okay. Okay, alright. I'm thankful for my kids. I'm thankful for my family. I'm thankful for my insane ex-wife, even if we're... Whatever. I'm thankful I've got an okay last resort to spend thanksgiving with." (Josh knocks his glass against Toby's, "Here, here!"). "I'm not thankful that Sam is a traitor who abandoned me in my hour of need. But, I suppose I'm grateful he sent me a backup."

"Aw, geez." Will mutters with a smirk. Twenty-fours in, he's already starting to acclimate to his new writing partner's demeanor.

"Acceptable." CJ nods, and turns to her right. "And you, idiot boy? You're up."

Josh raises his eyebrows in mild alarm. He'd been zoning out a little. The alcohol is just starting to reach his head, and he gets contemplative when he's tipsy. That's normally why he heads straight for drunk. In the warm, sleepy room, he finds himself stumbling inadvertently onto the truth. "I'm thankful for Donna."

CJ and Toby both immediately groan and/or wince, and Will looks up in confusion. "Oh, God, are we really doing this right now?"

"No, no, it's not like that." Josh immediately tries to backpedal. "It's just that she's, you know, I owe a lot to her, I couldn't do my job without her, and she has to put up with a lot from me, and..." He trails off, running a hand through his hair. "She makes my life bearable." He winces. "Oh god. Yeah, I heard it that time."

"Josh, I know you're in a mood tonight because it's a holiday, and you want her here with you, and you're a little jealous of her and Commander whatever, but we're simply not going to indulge your pathetic and unproductive crush on your assistant, okay? Not tonight. We both know you're not going to do anything about it except make yourself and her miserable."

"It's not like that!" He protests. "I've been thinking... I don't know. Something that happened yesterday kind of got me thinking about it."

"What?"

He looks down, reluctant to tell the story. He knows what it'll sound like. "She asked me to um, you know, mention her to Jack, right? Commander Wonderful? Just to scope out the situation, or whatever."

"Oh, God." CJ knows where this is going. She'll also be having a little talk with Donna later about purposefully doing things to prod Josh (she could've just as easily asked CJ to be her wing woman, which would've frankly been much more successful), but that's a discussion for another day.

"And I just... I don't know. I guess I gave him the wrong impression, because later he said some things about not wanting to 'get in between anything,' and I guess... I got carried away. Talking about her, I mean. I told some of my favorite stories about her, and..."

"And the way you told them led Jack to think you were in love with her?"

Josh shrugs sheepishly. "Maybe?"

Will feels it relevant to add, "Well, he's not alone. It took me a while to get the fact that she was your assistant. When you guys came in, I thought you were together." What else was he to think? They arrived together, he took her coat and then followed her in with a hand on her back, and then they announced " _we brought pie,_ " as if they came as a unit. Josh had been introduced as the deputy chief of staff, and Donna had smiled and said " _And I'm like his deputy!_ " and Will had assumed it was some sort of joke. Frankly, they were cute together.

"You're not the only one, Will. You and most of Washington." CJ assures him.

Josh looks torn between smugness and shame. "But that's not it. That's not what's been bugging me."

"Oh, so it doesn't bother you that you create the illusion that you have an inappropriate relationship with your assistant?" Toby says dryly. "Go on."

Josh shoots him a glare. "It's just... They were good stories, you know? She thought they made her sound crazy, but, I love them. Because, I love her." He winces again. "Oh god. This is getting worse and worse, isn't it?"

"You _love_ her?" CJ gapes.

"Not like that! I just meant, she's entertaining, and it's endearing, really, and she makes everything better, right? She makes it a good time. I'm always having a better time with her, and I can't even _begin_ to imagine what my life would be like if it weren't for _ohmygod_. What I'm describing sounds a lot like love, doesn't it?" He looks around, panicked.

"It does, mi amor."

"But it's not! She's just such a big part of my life, and what we have is... I don't know, I do _love_ her, just not like..." He rests his forehead on the table with a resounding thunk. "Oh, God." He groans.

CJ reaches out a hand and tenderly touches his shoulder. "Josh. You know we're not the ones you should be telling this to, right?"

He looks up at her tentatively. "What?"

"Josh. She deserves to hear all this. Before she's in too deep with Jack, or before you shove all this down and start denying it again, because you're too afraid, or... You get my point."

"You're serious?"

"Have some balls." Toby concurs. "I'll even make 'Team Josh' hats."

"You guys..."

"Josh, it's thanksgiving. And even without everything else... She deserves to hear how thankful you are for her. You know she does."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Twenty minutes later, egged on by his coworkers, Josh finds himself sitting on the steps outside Donna's apartment building. No one had answered when he buzzed, so evidently she isn't back from her date yet. It's pretty cold outside, and he has to admit, this idea had seemed a lot better back in the warmth of CJ's apartment. Now that he's here, he's strikingly sober and a little afraid. But, he does want to see her. So he stays rooted to the spot.

He wonders how long a goddamn second date could take. She'd left CJ's over three hours ago, what's taking her so long?

Just then, a horrible thought occurs to him. What if she doesn't come back tonight? What if she stays over with Commander Wonderful? Or, worse, what if they both return here, stumbling out of the cab giggling and amorous?

 _Oh, God_. He feels his fight or flight response start to take over. Flight definitely seems to be winning out. He shifts on the steps, debating getting the hell out of here, when a cab pulls up to the curb.

He watches anxiously as the door opens, and then breathes out a sigh of relief. Mercifully, she's alone.

"Josh?"

He stands up. "Hi."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Um."

"How long have you been out here? It's freezing."

"Um."

"Are you drunk? You don't seem drunk."

"That would be because I'm not."

"Hm." She shakes her head, smiling slightly. "Come on. Let's go inside."

"How was your date?" He asks as she pulls out her keys.

She looks at him suspiciously. "Did you come all this way just to harass me?"

"No."

"It was nice." She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear thoughtfully. "Really nice. How was the rest of your night?"

"It was... Good. CJ made us do the thankfulness thing."

"Oh, no, I forgot! I can't believe I missed that part."

"Yeah, she mentioned it was your idea last year."

"So," she prompts as they reach her door, "what are you thankful for?"

He feigns a groan and follows her into the kitchen. "Really? I have to relive this?"

She gives him a dazzling smile and slips off her coat. "Why else would you come over here?"

His expression sobers. "That is actually, um, why I came."

"What? My forced sentimentality?" She fills a kettle without looking at him, presumably to make tea.

"No, I..." He sighs in frustration, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "I should've thought this through."

"Thought what through?" She glances over at him curiously, setting the kettle on the stove.

He smiles, trying to mask his nerves and muddled thoughts. "You were the thing."

She furrows her brow. "Josh. We both know I'm good at reading you. But even I-"

"I said I was thankful for you. After dinner. You're the thing I'm thankful for." He takes a deep breath.

She stares at him, momentarily frozen. She falters. "Well. That's sweet."

"Donna..."

She moves on brusquely. "Of course you should be thankful for me, considering everything I do for you, you know, beyond my job description. You know how you could show your appreciation? You could ask Leo for-"

"Donna, I'm serious."

She folds her arms. "What do you mean?"

"I'm thankful you're in my life. You're... I don't know. I can't imagine my life without you. I can honestly say I don't think I would've made it here, so, take that as you will. Here as in, you know, alive, employed, relatively successful... But it's more than that."

Seeing he's obviously struggling, she attempts to intercede before things get too serious. "Josh, it's okay. I know. I'm thankful you're in my life too."

"Will you let me talk?"

"I don't know, are you going to get more coherent?"

He shoots her an irritated smile. "You're infuriating."

"Yeah, but you're thankful for it."

"I am." He says, surprisingly tender. "I am, God, I'm... Like I said, it's more than that. Having you with me every day, is... Well, you make everything better. You... You make my life better."

She feels herself starting to melt. "Joshua..."

"See? That, right there. I hate it when anyone else uses my full name."

"But you don't when I do?"

He nods. "It's the opposite. And, and, all those stories. You know, the ones I told Commander Wonderful?"

A flicker of annoyance crosses her face. "Jack."

"Sure. I'm just saying, I like all those things about you. I'll say it again, they're endearing, okay?" He isn't sure why he sounds strangely defensive. "Those traits, quirks, whatever you want to call 'em, they're what make me..." He has another look of mild horror, like he'd had back at CJ's apartment, and squeezes his eyes shut. He leans back against her kitchen counter. "Oh, God."

She takes a step closer to him, curiosity peaked. "Josh. What were you going to say?"

He keeps his face screwed up, possibly against the mortification of this moment. "Um, I... Adore... You." He frowns. It sounds even worse out loud. "Oh, _God_."

A wide smile spreads across her face. She can't help it. Leaning against her counter, eyes closed and impossibly embarrassed, he's too adorable for words. "Joshua."

"Mm?"

"Open your eyes."

He does so, tentatively, and finds her standing much closer to him than he remembered. She's smiling up at him, delighted, her arms folded. "Um."

"I adore you too."

His shoulders fall in relief. "I'm really grateful you're in my life. That's all."

"That's all?" She challenges. She rests one hand gently on his shoulder.

"That's not quite all."

She smirks. "I'm grateful you're in my life, too. God, I don't know what my life would be like without my insufferable, over dramatic, clueless other half."

"Did you just say-"

"I prefaced it with a lot of insults, but yes." She shakes her head. "And I'm thankful you came and told me this."

"Hey. Least I could do."

"I don't think I'll be going on a third date with Jack."

"Why's that?"

"I just don't think he adores me properly."

"That could be partially my fault."

"How could it be? You told him all my best stories."

He dips his head and gently presses his lips to hers. She kisses him back, and after a moment, he feels her smile. He smiles too. He can't help it. He's thankful that he won't be running out of stories to tell about her any time soon, because he doesn't intend to miss a moment with her.

"I should tell you that I was hoping you'd get jealous."

"Well, I'm thankful you did it."

"We can drop the whole thankfulness bit now, you know."

"I didn't even do that one on purpose! You did this to me."

"Aw, well I'm thankful that I did."

"I take it all back. I'm leaving."

"No, please! I'd be _oh so_ thankful if you'd stay."

He shakes his head and cuts off her laughter by sealing his lips to hers again.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Happy holidays :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hi everybody! Below I have what is possibly the most absurd thing I've ever written. It's totally dumb but I couldn't help myself. I've been writing this instead of doing real work and it's been _so. Fun._**

 **Okay, I'll give. It's a tinder AU.**

 **I know, I know! Very dumb. But, I think it's pretty funny. It's totally not serious so just go with it, even if it seems ridiculous at times. That's kind of the point. I really wanted to write these dumb babies being crazy millennials like me and my friends, and this just sort of happened. Excuse all the references and self indulgence.**

 **Okay. If I haven't dissuaded you yet, forge ahead ;)**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"C'mon! It'll be fun, we can do it together."

Josh, despite his high levels of intoxication, aims a glare at Sam as they stagger into the apartment. "I can think of some way better bonding exercises, bro."

Sam pouts as Josh collapses onto the couch. Toby takes an armchair and CJ curls catlike by the coffee table, her long legs folded under her. Sam sinks clumsily into a kitchen chair, struggling to turn it toward his friends. "I don't want to do it alone, it's sad. If you've got a friend, swiping together, sharing your horror stories and possibilities, it's... Less sad."

"I'm not joining a dating app!" Josh groans without looking up. "I barely even date. I'm not, like, _trying_ to meet someone. I'm not that desperate."

"Are you calling me desperate?"

"I mean..."

Sam had broken up with his long term girlfriend Lisa a few weeks ago, and had since joined tinder to try and "get back out there." However, the app made him feel a little gross and he wanted some camaraderie in his endeavor. As CJ had just started dating some journalism program guy named Danny, and Toby's on-again-off-again with Andy was on for the time being, he was left to try and persuade his best friend, the perpetually noncommittal Josh to join him. He glares at him, though he isn't looking. "It doesn't have to be anything serious. Most people just use it for hookups, anyway."

"I'm not looking for a hookup, either."

"Non committal hookups? Isn't that your M.O.?"

"Yeah, but only when they _happen_ to me." Josh says elegantly, words slightly slurred. "I'm not out _looking_. That's just sad."

"Well, you're not doing it for you anyway. You're doing it for me."

"And me!" CJ pipes up, grinning maliciously. "I'd get such a kick out of you on tinder, idiot boy, c'mon."

"I wouldn't say no to observing this little... Social experiment, either." Toby allows.

"Great, so now I'm a social experiment?" Josh says incredulously. "Don't you know how those always turn out? Like the prison guard one and all that shit."

"This isn't even a little bit like that."

"That's what they say before they like, sterilize someone."

"That was a different experiment." CJ tells him flatly. "You're talking to a psychology minor, remember?"

"Mm. No."

Sam smiles. "See? Everybody agrees with me! It'll be fun!"

"For you."

"C'mon." Sam wheedles. "I'm your best friend. Not even for me?"

Josh shoots him a look for invoking the best friend card. He fumbles around for a minute before tossing Sam his phone. "Go nuts."

"Yes! You're the real ride or die."

"Whatever. Nothing embarrassing." He sinks back against the couch cushions, allowing Jesus to take the wheel on this one.

CJ and Toby immediately gather around the phone like moths to a flame. They wait impatiently as the app downloads. "Okay. Okay. Gotta make a profile."

"We need good pictures." CJ says. "Image is everything."

"A public relations PhD candidate, everybody."

"Let's look at his Instagram."

Josh starts become increasingly drowsy, barely listening as his friends start to comb through his social media. He definitely shouldn't have had that last tequila shot.

"Josh!" He's jolted awake by CJ's reprimand.

"Suh."

"All of the pictures of you are like, group pictures. Like the fulbrights, or Sam."

"So?"

"No group pictures! It means you're probably the ugly one."

"What?"

"Check his camera roll." CJ says, deciding that consulting Josh isn't her best course of action. After a minute of scrolling, she rebukes him once more. "These are all just horrible saved snapchats!"

"I have a strong snap game."

"You broke our streak four times." Sam reminds him.

"But my story is fire."

"It's not. It's all you complaining at the library..."

"Or making obscure references and ironic jokes..."

"Or partying."

"Hey, tonight's was good!"

"For once."

"Oh, I kinda like this one." CJ stops them. "It shows you're smart. And funny."

"Aw, CJ. You trying to tell me something?"

"Do you guys like this one?" CJ shows the phone around. She gets varying degrees of enthusiasm from Sam and Toby. "Okay, so that's a yes. But it can't be first, we need something more neutral up front. Funny comes later."

"Okay. How about... God, he doesn't have a lot."

"You've never taken a serious selfie in your life?"

"Why would I?"

"Here." Sam sighs and pulls out his phone. "I have better pictures of him, honestly."

"And why's that?" CJ raises an eyebrow. Sam blushes and mumbles something about being into photography. "Oh, that one's good! He looks cute in that."

"Cute?" Josh mumbles in protest.

"Sorry, dashing." CJ adds it to the profile.

"Dashing?"

"Hot as fuck, whatever you wanna hear."

"Damn straight."

"We should add the one of you guys kayaking. I think we have to."

"I'm an outdoorsman." Josh chimes in helpfully.

"We have to?" Toby questions.

"Look, it's an unspoken rule. You have abs, ya gotta put 'em out there."

Toby looks appalled, while Sam bobs his head in agreement. "That's true, you do."

"Okay, after this, we're definitely looking at your profile, Sam."

"I feel objectified." Josh whines half heartedly.

"Alright, I think that's good, yeah? Good variety."

"Yeah, seems about right."

"Onto a bio!"

"Oh, I've got this." Toby takes control of the phone.

CJ looks surprised. "Okay, professional writer, we'll back up and let you do your magic."

Toby hands the phone back a couple seconds later and CJ and Sam both grin. "That's perfect."

"Lemme see!"

Toby leans over to thrust the phone into Josh's face. Josh blinks a couple times to bring the letters into focus before laughing. "Okay. That's pretty good."

"Approved!" Toby announces, and CJ and Sam cheer with undue enthusiasm. "OKay. What's your anthem?"

Josh mutters something that sounds like "Syrup sandwiches."

"Huh?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "He's saying he wants it to be Kendrick's _Humble_. He hasn't stopped quoting it for weeks."

CJ gives Josh a malicious grin. "Are you sure you don't want it to be _Wait For It_ from Hamilton?"

Josh gapes at her. "I told you that in confidence!"

CJ giggles. "Okay, we'll leave it blank for now. I'm too excited to wait any longer. Let's swipe!"

"Let's sleep." Josh decides, eyes starting to droop again. "Let me know if you find my future wife."

"You got it, buddy."

Before the thrill and amusement has worn off for them, they show Josh a few prospects. Mostly, they swipe according to their own preferences and sometimes because they know outright that Josh wouldn't like the girl. Josh is almost out to it when CJ shoves the phone at him one more time. "I love this girl!"

"Huh?"

"Look at this girl! Tell me if you like her!"

Josh squints. The first thing that pops into his head is, "She looks like a Barbie."

CJ frowns. "Look, here she is at the women's march! And, oh my god, look, she met Ruth Bader Ginsburg."

Josh shrugs. "That's pretty cool."

"Her bio is pretty funny."

"I can't read right now."

"Oh... I do think she's in an a Capella group." She winces as she says it, knowing exactly how Josh will feel about this.

"Yikes, hard pass."

"I'm swiping right."

"I guess I can't stop you."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Donna flicks through her phone with a slight smile on her face as she takes her fifteen minute break at work. Her friend Elle strolls into the break room and gives her the once over. "What are you smiling about?"

"Look at this guy I matched with on tinder a second ago. Do you think he's cute?"

"Your face says you think he's cute."

"He's a law student."

"Aren't they all?"

"Law students are pretentious as fuck."

"You'll be one this time next year."

"Yeah, but..."

"Anyway, I can't believe you're still on tinder! Especially after that last guy. Dick pic Rick."

Donna rolls her eyes. "Hey, you're still on it, even after 'take me right here in the library' guy."

Elle giggles and shushes her. "Touché. Steve was a fun guy though."

"Sure." Donna passes her the phone. She watches Elle's face as she flicks through the pictures.

"Ooh." Elle brightens suddenly and turns the phone around to reveal, of course, the shirtless picture.

"Stop." Donna takes the phone back. "He has a nice smile. And he's funny, right?"

"Oh god, I did not notice any words at all."

"Look at this." Donna shows her the phone again, stopped at the last picture, taken of him somehow sitting in the lap of the Benjamin Franklin memorial statue in Philadelphia. The snapchat caption reads, _here in the birthplace of daddy b to remind you that knowledge is key,_ with, of course, a key emoji.

Elle laughs out loud. "I hate this! He's perfect for you."

"And the bio."

Elle scrolls down and snorts. The bio reads, _just looking for someone to steal the Declaration of Independence with._ "Marry him."

"Pass. Might message him, though."

"Ooh, messaging first? Bold."

"Just to tell him that there's a factual error here."

"What?"

"Benjamin Franklin was born in Boston, not Philadelphia. He died in Philadelphia."

Elle shakes her head. "Donna Moss, let it never be said that you don't know how to seduce a man."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXXxXxXxXx

When Josh wakes up supremely hungover the next morning, he finds Sam in the kitchen making coffee and CJ and Toby passed out in various parts of the living room. He sits at the counter and tries to avoid throwing up or falling down. Sam slides him a glass of water and some aspirin. "Remind me again why we did that."

"Midterms are over."

"Oh yeah." Josh brightens considerably. He downs the aspirin and water and begs Sam with his eyes for some coffee. Sam relents and after his first few sips, Josh feels finally ready to confront reality. He pulls out his phone and starts to scroll through his notifications. "Oh shit, I almost forgot."

"What?"

"You guys tried to sell me last night."

Sam furrows his brow and leans over the counter to see what Josh is talking about. He's looking at all of his tinder notifications. Sam rolls his eyes. "We did not. You got any good matches?"

"Let's find out." Josh mutters. He opens the app and takes a minute to get his bearings. He squints in surprise at one of the message notifications. "I've had this app for what, eight hours? This girl messaged me at ten this morning. Over eager, much?"

Sam gives him a look. "Be nice."

"I'm always nice." He opens the message. Donna. He vaguely recalls her as the girl CJ had liked last night.

 _Just wanted to let you know you're wrong, Ben Franklin was born in Boston not Philly! Please don't disrespect daddy b._

He's torn between irritation and amusement. Seriously, she's critiquing him for profile errors? Of course, he knew the snap was wrong, he'd noticed it a couple hours after putting it on his story, but who cares? It's still funny.

He clicks to her profile, hoping to find something factually inaccurate of his own to respond with, and he finds himself taken aback. What was just a blurry blonde figure last night is now one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen.

He almost doesn't know what to do with himself. Why is his face heating up? He flips through the pictures, the first of her standing in the snow with an expression of awe, the next of her fangirling over Ruth Bader Ginsburg. There's another of her with some friends, one at the Women's March on Washington, and finally one of her with what appears to be an a Capella group. _Right. Gross._

Finally he reads her bio, and damn it, she brings him right back in. _Mostly just looking for a Joe to my Barack, but will grudgingly accept an Ivanka to my DT. You can call me daddy_

It's pretty nonsensical, but he can't control a grin. It's the same sort of stupid joke he might make.

After realizing what he's doing, he sobers himself and goes to respond to her message. It doesn't matter if she's charming, she came for him.

As he has no ammo of his own, he just sends back a tired _Seriously? That's what you lead with?_ and locks his phone.

Sam watches him curiously. "So?"

"So what?"

"You were smiling."

"No I wasn't." Just then, his phone buzzes. It can't possibly be...

Evidently, she has no shame when it comes to response time. She's sent back, _It's the only reason I swiped right actually!_

"You're doing it again. Smiling."

"Hold on."

 _To attack me?_

He barely has to wait for her response. _You look like you could use a good takedown._

As it turns out, she's right. That's exactly what he needs in his life.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _Four months later_

As they sit down with their morning bagels and coffee, Sam notices Josh smiling at his phone in a now familiar way. He nudges him to get his attention. "Donna?"

"Huh?" He looks up. "Oh, yeah." Ignoring Sam's expression for the time being, he looks back down at his text conversation. It had started innocuously enough, he'd sent a perfunctory _Good morning Donnatella_ along with some Vox article he'd seen that she might find interesting.

She had responded, in her usual enthusiastic way, with _Joshua! ! I saw this already._

He sent back an eyeroll and _of course_.

As she was in class, her response time was a little slower than usual, but a few minutes later he got _oh and good morning to you too!_ accompanied by a slew of incomprehensible emojis.

Naturally, he replied with, _it's 10am, are you trying to sext me?_

Her response, the one that made him smile so profusely, came only seconds ago, _Depends, is it working?_

He grins as he shoots back _Always!_ before returning his attention to Sam. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Nothing." Sam shakes his head. "You guys are cute."

"Take that back." He says half heartedly even as he holds down a laugh at another insane string of emojis, complete with multiple eggplants and sweating icons.

"What is it?"

Josh passes him his phone and then shrugs as if to say _read at your own risk._

Sam's eyebrows jump upwards. "This is horrifying. But, still adorable."

"Please."

"You _love_ her."

"I'll break up with her right now, say I won't."

"You won't."

Josh shrugs again and types out a message. He shows Sam. _Hey, it's been good but I think we need to end it._

"You did not just send that."

"I did." He smiles at her response. "And see, look at that! It's final."

Sam looks over to see that Donna has responded _Sounds good!_ with a thumbs up. "You guys are crazy, you know that?"

"Don't know what you're talking about. It's over." Josh takes a large swig of coffee. He looks down at another notification. _At breakfast w Sam right?_ "It's okay if she joins us, right?"

Sam rolls his eyes at their antics. "Yeah, of course."

Josh sends back _Yeah, come join us after class. Now for the love of god pay attention_. and locks his phone with an air of finality. When he looks up, Sam is gazing across the café with a doleful expression. "What's up?"

"I'm just saying," Sam says for possibly the fiftieth time, "It's unfair."

"Oh, this again?"

"I'm the one who's out here trying, who made you get the app, and you find love! It's wrong. It's karmically wrong."

"First of all, please never talk to me about 'finding love' again, and second, it'll happen. But not until you calm down."

"Fine." Sam says primly. "I'll try."

They talk amicably about coursework and other things for the next ten minutes, at which time Donna breezes in the door from her nine thirty class. She is clad in her usual uniform of mom jeans, a crop top, and an oversized cardigan, a style she calls _granny chic_ while Josh affectionately refers to it as _granny bleak._

"Hey." She takes off her backpack and sits down at their table.

"Hey." Josh kisses her good morning, and Sam offers a smile. "How was class?"

"Boring. I didn't think senioritis was a thing after high school, but as it turns out..."

"Calm down, Moss. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Yeah, yeah." She grabs the remaining half of his bagel and takes a bite. "How are you guys?"

"Alive."

"Good." He looks over at her. "Hey, my parents are coming this weekend, you wanna...?"

"Oh yeah, Ruth already texted me."

"Of course she did."

"Dinner Saturday and brunch Sunday."

"Sure. Wish she'd included me in these plans, but..."

"She says you never text her back in a timely manner."

"That's ridiculous, I-"

"Hey." Sam interrupts curiously. "How do Ruth and Noah think the two of you met?"

Josh and Donna share an amused look. "What Ruth and Noah don't know won't hurt them." Josh tells him.

"I think we went with the whole 'mutual friends' thing."

"Ah. How old fashioned."

"It happens!"

"So you mean to tell me that they _also_ don't know that your first date was a rave where you graphically made out for half an hour before leaving early?"

Donna scoffs. "That was our _second_ date, Sam."

"Forgive me. It was just so memorable."

"Our first date was memorable too, but as it turns out, you weren't invited to that one." Josh tells him with a smirk.

Sam feigns hurt. "I wasn't?"

"Oh! That reminds me." Donna puts a hand on Sam's arm. "There's this girl I just started working with that I really think you'd like."

"Huh?"

"A girl. I want to set you up with her."

"Set me up?"

"I know, I know. Old fashioned." Donna grins at him.

"What's she like?"

"She's super cute, really smart. Short, blonde, kind of sorority girl meets edgy politico. Like Tomi Lahren, but not terrible."

Sam looks dubious. "I don't know."

"Sam, you're responsible for Josh receiving the great blessing that is me." She puts a hand on her heart, while Josh rolls his eyes and pinches her waist, making her squirm. "And I got Josh, which is pretty okay too. Let me return the favor."

"Maybe. What's her name?"

"Ainsley Hayes."

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **I know, I know, this was ridiculous lmao. But I couldn't help myself. If you had even half as much fun reading this as I did writing it, I'll take that as a success. Let me know what you think!**


End file.
